THE]  IBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CALIFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Myrtle  Tally 


THE   IRRATIONAL   KNOT 


BY  G.  BERNARD  SHAW 


An  Unsocial  Socialist 

The  Irrational  Knot 

Love  Among  the  Artists 

Cashel  Byron's  Profession 

The  Quintessence  of  Ibsenism 

The  Perfect  Wagnerite 

Plays,  Pleasant  and  Unpleasant,  2  v. 

Three  Plays  for  Puritans 

Man  and  Superman 


THE  IRRATIONAL  KNOT 
BY  BERNARD  SHAW  BE- 
ING THE  SECOND  NOVEL 
OF  HIS  NONAGE 


NEW  YORK:    BRENT ANO'S   1918 


Copyright,  1905 

BY  C.  BERNARD  SHAW 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 

Published  September,  1905 

Reprinted  December,  1905 
Reprinted  July,  1909 
Reprinted  February,  1911 
Reprinted  May,  1913 
Reprinted  August,  1914 
Reprinted  May,  1918 


College 
Library 


PREFACE   TO   AMERICAN 
EDITION   OF    1905 


1G6G3CO 


PREFACE 


THIS  novel  was  written  in  the  year  1880,  only  a 
few  years  after  I  had  exported  myself  from 
Dublin  to  London  in  a  condition  of  extreme  raw- 
ness and  inexperience  concerning  the  specifically  English 
side  of  the  life  with  which  the  book  pretends  to  deal. 
Everybody  wrote  novels  then.  It  was  my  second  attempt ; 
and  it  shared  the  fate  of  my  first.  That  is  to  say,  nobody 
would  publish  it,  though  I  tried  all  the  London  publishers 
and  some  American  ones.  And  I  should  not  greatly 
blame  them  if  I  could  feel  sure  that  it  was  the  book's 
faults  and  not  its  qualities  that  repelled  them. 

I  have  narrated  elsewhere  how  in  the  course  of  time 
the  rejected  MS.  became  Mrs.  Annie  Besant's  excuse  for 
lending  me  her  ever  helping  hand  by  publishing  it  as  a 
serial  in  a  little  propagandist  magazine  of  hers.  That  was 
how  it  got  loose  beyond  all  possibility  of  recapture.  It  is 
out  of  my  power  now  to  stand  between  it  and  the  Ameri- 
can public :  all  I  can  do  is  to  rescue  it  from  unauthorized 
mutilations  and  make  the  best  of  a  jejune  job. 

At  present,  of  course,  I  am  not  the  author  of  The 
Irrational  Knot.  Physiologists  inform  us  that  the  sub- 
stance of  our  bodies  (and  consequently  of  our  souls)  is 
shed  and  renewed  at  such  a  rate  that  no  part  of  us  lasts 
longer  than  eight  years :  I  am  therefore  not  now  in  any 
atom  of  me  the  person  who  wrote  The  Irrational  Knot 

vii 


Preface 

in  1880.  The  last  of  that  author  perished  in  1888;  and 
two  of  his  successors  have  since  joined  the  majority. 
Fourth  of  his  line,  I  cannot  be  expected  to  take  any 
very  lively  interest  in  the  novels  of  my  literary  great- 
grandfather. Even  my  personal  recollections  of  him 
are  becoming  vague  and  overlaid  with  those  most  mis- 
leading of  all  traditions,  the  traditions  founded  on  the 
lies  a  man  tells,  and  at  last  comes  to  believe,  about  him- 
self to  himself.  Certain  things,  however,  I  remember 
very  well.  For  instance,  I  am  significantly  clear  as  to 
the  price  of  the  paper  on  which  I  wrote  The  Irrational 
Knot.  It  was  cheap — a  white  demy  of  unpretentious 
quality — so  that  sixpennorth  lasted  a  long  time.  My 
daily  allowance  of  composition  was  five  pages  of  this 
demy  in  quarto;  and  I  held  my  natural  laziness  sternly 
to  that  task  day  in,  day  out,  to  the  end.  I  remember  also 
that  Bizet's  Carmen  being  then  new  in  London,  I  used 
it  as  a  safety-valve  for  my  romantic  impulses.  When  I 
was  tired  of  the  sordid  realism  of  Whatshisname  (I  have 
sent  my  only  copy  of  The  Irrational  Knot  to  the 
printers,  and  cannot  remember  the  name  of  my  hero)  I 
went  to  the  piano  and  forgot  him  in  the  glamorous  so- 
ciety of  Carmen  and  her  crimson  toreador  and  yellow 
dragoon.  Not  that  Bizet's  music  could  infatuate  me  as 
it  infatuated  Nietzsche.  Nursed  on  greater  masters,  I 
thought  less  of  him  than  he  deserved;  but  the  Carmen 
music  was — in  places — exquisite  of  its  kind,  and  could 
enchant  a  man  like  me,  romantic  enough  to  have  come 
to  the  end  of  romance  before  I  began  to  create  in  art 
for  myself. 

When  I  say  that  7  did  and  felt  these  things,  I  mean, 
of  course,  that  the  predecessor  whose  name  I  bear  did 
and  felt  them.  The  I  of  to-day  is  ( ?  am)  cool  towards 

viii 


Preface 

Carmen ;  and  Carmen,  I  regret  to  say,  does  not  take  the 
slightest  interest  in  him  (?  me).  And  now  enough  of 
this  juggling  with  past  and  present  Shaws.  The  gram- 
matical complications  of  being  a  first  person  and  several 
extinct  third  persons  at  the  same  moment  are  so  fright- 
ful that  I  must  return  to  the  ordinary  misusage,  and  ask 
the  reader  to  make  the  necessary  corrections  in  his  or  her 
own  mind. 

This  book  is  not  wholly  a  compound  of  intuition  and 
ignorance.  Take  for  example  the  profession  of  my  hero, 
an  Irish-American  electrical  engineer.  That  was  by  no 
means  a  flight  of  fancy.  For  you  mu^t  not  suppose,  be- 
cause I  am  a  man  of  letters,  that  I  never  tried  to  earn 
an  honest  living.  I  began  trying  to  commit  that  sin 
against  my  nature  when  I  was  fifteen,  and  persevered, 
from  youthful  timidity  and  diffidence,  until  I  was  twenty- 
three.  My  last  attempt  was  in  1879,  when  a  company  was 
formed  in  London  to  exploit  an  ingenious  invention  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Alva  Edison — a  much  too  ingenious  inven- 
tion as  it  proved,  being  nothing  less  than  a  telephone 
of  such  stentorian  efficiency  that  it  bellowed  your  most 
private  communications  all  over  the  house  instead  of 
whispering  them  with  some  sort  of  discretion.  This  was 
not  what  the  British  stockbroker  wanted;  so  the  com- 
pany was  soon  merged  in  the  National  Telephone  Com- 
pany, after  making  a  place  for  itself  in  the  history  of 
literature,  quite  unintentionally,  by  providing  me  with  a 
job.  Whilst  the  Edison  Telephone  Company  lasted,  it 
crowded  the  basement  of  a  huge  pile  of  offices  in  Queen 
Victoria  Street  with  American  artificers.  These  deluded 
and  romantic  men  gave  me  a  glimpse  of  the  skilled  pro- 
letariat of  the  United  States.  They  sang  obsolete  senti- 
mental songs  with  genuine  emotion;  and  their  language 

ix 


Preface 

was  frightful  even  to  an  Irishman.  They  worked  with  a 
ferocious  energy  which  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
actual  result  achieved.  Indomitably  resolved  to  assert 
their  republican  manhood  by  taking  no  orders  from  a 
tall-hatted  Englishman  whose  stiff  politeness  covered 
his  conviction  that  they  were,  relatively  to  himself,  in- 
ferior and  common  persons,  they  insisted  on  being  slave- 
driven  with  genuine  American  oaths  by  a  genuine  free 
and  equal  American  foreman.  They  utterly  despised  the 
artfully  slow  British  workman  who  did  as  little  for  his 
wages  as  he  possibly  could;  never  hurried  himself;  and 
had  a  deep  reverence  for  anyone  whose  pocket  could  be 
tapped  by  respectful  behavior.  Need  I  add  that  they 
were  contemptuously  wondered  at  by  this  same  British 
workman  as  a  parcel  of  outlandish  adult  boys,  who 
sweated  themselves  for  their  employer's  benefit  instead 
of  looking  after  their  own  interests?  They  adored  Mr. 
Edison  as  the  greatest  man  of  all  time  in  every  possible 
department  of  science,  art  and  philosophy,  and  execrated 
Mr.  Graham  Bell,  the  inventor  of  the  rival  telephone,  as 
his  Satanic  adversary;  but  each  of  them  had  (or  pre- 
tended to  have)  on  the  brink  of  completion,  an  improve- 
ment on  the  telephone,  usually  a  new  transmitter.  They 
were  free-souled  creatures,  excellent  company:  sensitive, 
cheerful,  and  profane ;  liars,  braggarts,  and  hustlers ;  with 
an  air  of  making  slow  old  England  hum  which  never  left 
them  even  when,  as  often  happened,  they  were  wrestling 
with  difficulties  of  their  own  making,  or  struggling  in 
no- thorough  fares  from  which  they  had  to  be  retrieved 
like  strayed  sheep  by  Englishmen  without  imagination 
enough  to  go  wrong. 

In  this  environment  I  remained  for  some  months.    As 
I  was  interested  in  physics  and  had  read  Tyndall  and 

x 


Preface 

Helmholtz,  besides  having  learnt  something  in  Ireland 
through  a  fortunate  friendship  with  a  cousin  of  Mr. 
Graham  Bell  who  was  also  a  chemist  and  physicist,  I 
was,  I  believe,  the  only  person  in  the  entire  establishment 
who  knew  the  current  scientific  explanation  of  telephony ; 
and  as  I  soon  struck  up  a  friendship  with  our  official 
lecturer,  a  Colchester  man  whose  strong  point  was  pre- 
scientific  agriculture,  I  often  discharged  his  duties  for 
him  in  a  manner  which,  I  am  persuaded,  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  Mr.  Edison's  London  reputation:  my  sole  re- 
ward being  my  boyish  delight  in  the  half-concealed  in- 
credulity of  our  visitors  (who  were  convinced  by  the 
hoarsely  startling  utterances  of  the  telephone  that  the 
speaker,  alleged  by  me  to  be  twenty  miles  away,  was 
really  using  a  speaking-trumpet  in  the  next  room),  and 
their  obvious  uncertainty,  when  the  demonstration  was 
over,  as  to  whether  they  ought  to  tip  me  or  not :  a  ques- 
tion they  either  decided  in  the  negative  or  never  decided 
at  all ;  for  I  never  got  anything. 

So  much  for  my  electrical  engineer !  To  get  him  into 
contact  with  fashionable  society  before  he  became  famous 
was  also  a  problem  easily  solved.  I  knew  of  three  Eng- 
lish peers  who  actually  preferred  physical  laboratories  to 
stables,  and  scientific  experts  to  gamekeepers :  in  fact,  one 
of  the  experts  was  a  friend  of  mine.  And  I  knew  from 
personal  experience  that  if  science  brings  men  of  all  ranks 
into  contact,  art,  especially  music,  does  the  same  for  men 
and  women.  An  electrician  who  can  play  an  accompani- 
ment can  go  anywhere  and  know  anybody.  As  far  as 
mere  access  and  acquaintance  go  there  are  no  class  bar- 
riers for  him.  My  difficulty  was  not  to  get  my  hero  into 
society,  but  to  give  any  sort  of  plausibility  to  my  picture 
of  society  when  I  got  him  into  it.  I  lacked  the  touch  of 

xi 


Preface 

the  literary  diner-out;  and  I  had,  as  the  reader  will 
probably  find  to  his  cost,  the  classical  tradition  which 
makes  all  the  persons  in  a  novel,  except  the  comically 
vernacular  ones,  or  the  speakers  of  phonetically  spelt 
dialect,  utter  themselves  in  the  formal  phrases  and  studied 
syntax  of  eighteenth  century  rhetoric.  In  short,  I  wrote 
in  the  style  of  Scott  and  Dickens;  and  as  fashionable 
society  then  spoke  and  behaved,  as  it  still  does,  in  no  style 
at  all,  my  transcriptions  of  Oxford  and  Mayfair  may  nowa- 
days suggest  an  unaccountable  and  ludicrous  ignorance 
of  a  very  superficial  and  accessible  code  of  manners.  I 
was  not,  however,  so  ignorant  as  might  have  been  in- 
ferred at  that  time  from  my  somewhat  desperate  financial 
condition. 

I  had,  to  begin  with,  a  sort  of  backstairs  knowledge; 
for  in  my  teens  I  struggled  for  life  in  the  office  of  an 
Irish  gentleman  who  acted  as  land  agent  and  private 
banker  for  many  persons  of  distinction.  Now  it  is  pos- 
sible for  a  London  author  to  dine  out  in  the  highest 
circles  for  twenty  years  without  learning  as  much  about 
the  human  frailties  of  his  hosts  as  the  family  solicitor 
or  (in  Ireland)  the  family  land  agent  learns  in  twenty 
days ;  and  some  of  this  knowledge  inevitably  reaches  his 
clerks,  especially  the  clerk  who  keeps  the  cash,  which 
was  my  particular  department.  He  learns,  if  capable  of 
the  lesson,  that  the  aristocratic  profession  has  as  few 
geniuses  as  any  other  profession;  so  that  if  you  want  a 
peerage  of  more  than,  say,  half  a  dozen  members,  you 
must  fill  it  up  with  many  common  persons,  and  even  with 
some  deplorably  mean  ones.  For  "  service  is  no  inheri- 
tance "  either  in  the  kitchen  or  the  House  of  Lords ;  and 
the  case  presented  by  Mr.  Barrie  in  his  play  of  The 
Admirable  Crichton,  where  the  butler  is  the  man  of 

xii 


Preface 

quality,  and  his  master,  the  Earl,  the  man  of  rank,  is  no 
fantasy,  but  a  quite  common  occurrence,  and  indeed  to 
some  extent  an  inevitable  one,  because  the  English  are 
extremely  particular  in  selecting  their  butlers,  whilst 
they  do  not  select  their  barons  at  all,  taking  them  as 
the  accident  of  birth  sends  them.  The  consequences  in- 
clude much  ironic  comedy.  For  instance,  we  have  in 
England  a  curious  belief  in  first  rate  people,  meaning 
all  the  people  we  do  not  know ;  and  this  consoles  us  for 
the  undeniable  secondrateness  of  the  people  we  do  know, 
besides  saving  the  credit  of  aristocracy  as  an  institution. 
The  unmet  aristocrat  is  devoutly  believed  in;  but  he  is 
always  round  the  corner,  never  at  hand.  That  the  smart 
set  exists;  that  there  is  above  and  beyond  that  smart  set 
a  class  so  blue  of  blood  and  exquisite  in  nature  that  it 
looks  down  even  on  the  King  with  haughty  condescen- 
sion; that  scepticism  on  these  points  is  one  of  the  stig- 
mata of  plebeian  baseness :  all  these  imaginings  are  so 
common  here  that  they  constitute  the  real  popular  soci- 
ology of  England  as  much  as  an  unlimited  credulity  as 
to  vaccination  constitutes  the  real  popular  science  of 
England.  It  is,  of  course,  a  timid  superstition.  A  Brit- 
ish peer  or  peeress  who  happens  by  chance  to  be  genu- 
inely noble  is  just  as  isolated  at  court  as  Goethe  would 
have  been  among  all  the  other  grandsons  of  publicans,  if 
they  had  formed  a  distinct  class  in  Frankfurt  or  Weimar. 
This  I  knew  very  well  when  I  wrote  my  novels ;  and  if, 
as  I  suspect,  I  failed  to  create  a  convincingly  verisimi- 
lar atmosphere  of  aristocracy,  it  was  not  because  I  had 
any  illusions  or  ignorances  as  to  the  common  humanity 
of  the  peerage,  and  not  because  I  gave  literary  style  to 
its  conversation,  but  because,  as  I  had  never  had  any 
money,  I  was  foolishly  indifferent  to  it,  and  so,  having 

xiii 


Preface 

blinded  myself  to  its  enormous  importance,  necessarily 
missed  the  point  of  view,  and  with  it  the  whole  moral 
basis,  of  the  class  which  rightly  values  money,  and  plenty 
of  it,  as  the  first  condition  of  a  bearable  life. 

Money  is  indeed  the  most  important  thing  in  the  world ; 
and  all  sound  and  successful  personal  and  national  mo- 
rality should  have  this  fact  for  its  basis.  Every  teacher 
or  twaddler  who  denies  it  or  suppresses  it,  is  an  enemy 
of  life.  Money  controls  morality;  and  what  makes  the 
United  States  of  America  look  so  foolish  even  in  foolish 
Europe  is  that  they  are  always  in  a  state  of  flurried  con- 
cern and  violent  interference  with  morality,  whereas  they 
throw  their  money  into  the  street  to  be  scrambled  for, 
and  presently  find  that  their  cash  reserves  are  not  in  their 
own  hands,  but  in  the  pockets  of  a  few  millionaires  who, 
bewildered  by  their  luck,  and  unspeakably  incapable  of 
making  any  truly  economic  use  of  it,  endeavor  to  "  do 
good  "  with  it  by  letting  themselves  be  fleeced  by  philan- 
thropic committee  men,  building  contractors,  librarians 
and  professors,  in  the  name  of  education,  science,  art  and 
what  not;  so  that  sensible  people  exhale  relievedly  when 
the  pious  millionaire  dies,  and  his  heirs,  demoralized  by 
being  brought  up  on  his  outrageous  income,  begin  the 
socially  beneficent  work  of  scattering  his  fortune  through 
the  channels  of  the  trades  that  flourish  by  riotous  living. 

This,  as  I  have  said,  I  did  not  then  understand ;  for  I 
knew  money  only  by  the  want  of  it.  Ireland  is  a  poor 
country;  and  my  father  was  a  poor  man  in  a  poor  coun- 
try. By  this  I  do  not  mean  that  he  was  hungry  and 
homeless,  a  hewer  of  wood  and  a  drawer  of  water.  My 
friend  Mr.  James  Huneker,  a  man  of  gorgeous  imagi- 
nation and  incorrigible  romanticism,  has  described  me 
to  the  American  public  as  a  peasant  lad  who  has  raised 

xiv 


Preface 

himself,  as  all  American  presidents  are  assumed  to  have 
raised  themselves,  from  the  humblest  departments  of 
manual  labor  to  the  loftiest  eminence.  James  flatters  me. 
Had  I  been  born  a  peasant,  I  should  now  be  a  tramp. 
My  notion  of  my  father's  income  is  even  vaguer  than 
his  own  was — and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal — but  he 
always  had  an  income  of  at  least  three  figures  (four,  if 
you  count  in  dollars  instead  of  pounds)  ;  and  what  made 
him  poor  was  that  he  conceived  himself  as  born  to  a 
social  position  which  even  in  Ireland  could  have  been 
maintained  in  dignified  comfort  only  on  twice  or  thrice 
what  he  had.  And  he  married  on  that  assumption.  For- 
tunately for  me,  social  opportunity  is  not  always  to  be 
measured  by  income.  There  is  an  important  economic 
factor,  first  analyzed  by  an  American  economist  (General 
Walker),  and  called  rent  of  ability.  Now  this  rent,  when 
the  ability  is  of  the  artistic  or  political  sort,  is  often  paid 
in  kind.  For  example,  a  London  possessor  of  such  ability 
may,  with  barely  enough  money  to  maintain  a  furnished 
bedroom  and  a  single  presentable  suit  of  clothes,  see 
everything  worth  seeing  that  a  millionaire  can  see,  and 
know  everybody  worth  knowing  that  he  can  know.  Long 
before  I  reached  this  point  myself,  a  very  trifling  accom- 
plishment gave  me  glimpses  of  the  sort  of  fashionable 
life  a  peasant  never  sees.  Thus  I  remember  one  evening 
during  the  novel-writing  period  when  nobody  would  pay 
a  farthing  for  a  stroke  of  my  pen,  walking  along  Sloane 
Street  in  that  blessed  shield  of  literary  shabbiness,  even- 
ing dress.  A  man  accosted  me  with  an  eloquent  appeal 
for  help,  ending  with  the  assurance  that  he  had  not  a 
penny  in  the  world.  I  replied,  with  exact  truth,  "  Neither 
have  I."  He  thanked  me  civilly,  and  went  away,  appar- 
ently not  in  the  least  surprised,  leaving  me  to  ask  myself 

xv 


Preface 

why  I  did  not  turn  beggar  too,  since  I  felt  sure  that  a 
man  who  did  it  as  well  as  he,  must  be  in  comfortable 
circumstances. 

Another  reminiscence.  A  little  past  midnight,  in  the 
same  costume,  I  was  turning  from  Piccadilly  into  Bond 
Street,  when  a  lady  of  the  pavement,  out  of  luck  that 
evening  so  far,  confided  to  me  that  the  last  bus  for 
Brompton  had  passed,  and  that  she  should  be  grateful 
to  any  gentleman  who  would  give  her  a  lift  in  a  hansom. 
My  old-fashioned  Irish  gallantry  had  not  then  been  worn 
off  by  age  and  England :  besides,  as  a  novelist  who  could 
find  no  publisher,  I  was  touched  by  the  similarity  of  our 
trades  and  predicaments.  I  excused  myself  very  politely 
on  the  ground  that  my  wife  (invented  for  the  occasion) 
was  waiting  for  me  at  home,  and  that  I  felt  sure  so  at- 
tractive a  lady  would  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  another 
escort.  Unfortunately  this  speech  made  so  favorable  an 
impression  on  her  that  she  immediately  took  my  arm  and 
declared  her  willingness  to  go  anywhere  with  me,  on 
the  flattering  ground  that  I  was  a  perfect  gentleman. 
In  vain  did  I  try  to  persuade  her  that  in  coming  up  Bond 
Street  and  deserting  Piccadilly,  she  was  throwing  away 
her  last  chance  of  a  hansom:  she  attached  herself  so 
devotedly  to  me  that  I  could  not  without  actual  violence 
shake  her  off.  At  last  I  made  a  stand  at  the  end  of  Old 
Bond  Street.  I  took  out  my  purse;  opened  it;  and  held 
it  upside  down.  Her  countenance  fell,  poor  girl !  She 
turned  on  her  heel  with  a  melancholy  flirt  of  her  skirt, 
and  vanished. 

Now  on  both  these  occasions  I  had  been  in  the  com- 
pany of  people  who  spent  at  least  as  much  in  a  week 
as  I  did  in  a  year.  Why  was  I,  a  penniless  and  unknown 
young  man,  admitted  there?  Simply  because,  though  I 

xvi 


Preface 

was  an  execrable  pianist,  and  never  improved  until  the 
happy  invention  of  the  pianola  made  a  Paderewski  of 
me,  I  could  play  a  simple  accompaniment  at  sight  more 
congenially  to  a  singer  than  most  amateurs.  It  is  true 
that  the  musical  side  of  London  society,  with  its  streak 
of  Bohemianism,  and  its  necessary  toleration  of  foreign 
ways  and  professional  manners,  is  far  less  typically  Eng- 
lish than  the  sporting  side  or  the  political  side  or  the 
Philistine  side;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  people  may  and 
do  pass  their  lives  in  it  without  ever  discovering  what 
English  plutocracy  in  the  mass  is  really  like :  still,  if  you 
wander  in  it  nocturnally  for  a  fitful  year  or  so  as  I  did, 
with  empty  pockets  and  an  utter  impossibility  of  ap- 
proaching it  by  daylight  (owing  to  the  deplorable  decay 
of  the  morning  wardrobe),  you  have  something  more 
actual  to  go  on  than  the  hallucinations  of  a  peasant  lad 
setting  his  foot  manfully  on  the  lowest  rung  of  the  social 
ladder.  I  never  climbed  any  ladder:  I  have  achieved 
eminence  by  sheer  gravitation;  and  I  hereby  warn  all 
peasant  lads  not  to  be  duped  by  my  pretended  example 
into  regarding  their  present  servitude  as  a  practicable 
first  step  to  a  celebrity  so  dazzling  that  its  subject  cannot 
even  suppress  his  own  bad  novels. 

Conceive  me  then  at  the  writing  of  The  Irrational 
Knot  as  a  person  neither  belonging  to  the  world  I 
describe  nor  wholly  ignorant  of  it,  and  on  certain  points 
quite  incapable  of  conceiving  it  intuitively.  A  whole 
world  of  art  which  did  not  exist  for  it  lay  open  to  me. 
I  was  familiar  with  the  greatest  in  that  world:  mighty 
poets,  painters,  and  musicians  were  my  intimates.  I 
found  the  world  of  artificial  greatness  founded  on  con- 
vention and  money  so  repugnant  and  contemptible  by 
comparison  that  I  had  no  sympathetic  understanding  of 

xvii 


Preface 

it.  People  are  fond  of  blaming  valets  because  no  man  is 
a  hero  to  his  valet.  But  it  is  equally  true  that  no  man  is 
a  valet  to  his  hero;  and  the  hero,  consequently,  is  apt 
to  blunder  very  ludicrously  about  valets,  through  judg- 
ing them  from  an  irrelevant  standard  of  heroism:  hero- 
ism, remember,  having  its  faults  as  well  as  its  qualities. 
I,  always  on  the  heroic  plane  imaginatively,  had  two 
disgusting  faults  which  I  did  not  recognize  as  faults  be- 
cause I  could  not  help  them.  I  was  poor  and  (by  day) 
shabby.  I  therefore  tolerated  the  gross  error  that  pov- 
erty, though  an  inconvenience  and  a  trial,  is  not  a  sin 
and  a  disgrace;  and  I  stood  for  my  self-respect  on  the 
things  I  had :  probity,  ability,  knowledge  of  art,  laborious- 
ness,  and  whatever  else  came  cheaply  to  me.  Because  I 
could  walk  into  Hampton  Court  Palace  and  the  National 
Gallery  (on  free  days)  and  enjoy  Mantegna  and  Michael 
Angelo  whilst  millionaires  were  yawning  miserably  over 
inept  gluttonies ;  because  I  could  suffer  more  by  hearing 
a  movement  of  Beethoven's  Ninth  Symphony  taken  at  a 
wrong  tempo  than  a  duchess  by  losing  a  diamond  neck- 
lace, I  was  indifferent  to  the  repulsive  fact  that  if  I 
had  fallen  in  love  with  the  duchess  I  did  not  possess  a 
morning  suit  in  which  I  could  reasonably  have  expected 
her  to  touch  me  with  the  furthest  protended  pair  of 
tongs;  and  I  did  not  see  that  to  remedy  this  I  should 
have  been  prepared  to  wade  through  seas  of  other  peo- 
ple's blood.  Indeed  it  is  this  perception  which  consti- 
tutes an  aristocracy  nowadays.  It  is  the  secret  of  all 
our  governing  classes,  which  consist  finally  of  people 
who,  though  perfectly  prepared  to  be  generous,  humane, 
cultured,  philanthropic,  public  spirited  and  personally 
charming  in  the  second  instance,  are  unalterably  resolved, 
in  the  first,  to  have  money  enough  for  a  handsome  and 

xviii 


Preface 

delicate  life,  and  will,  in  pursuit  of  that  money,  batter 
in  the  doors  of  their  fellow  men,  sell  them  up,  sweat 
them  in  fetid  dens,  shoot,  stab,  hang,  imprison,  sink, 
burn  and  destroy  them  in  the  name  of  law  and  order. 
And  this  shews  their  fundamental  sanity  and  rightmind- 
edness;  for  a  sufficient  income  is  indispensable  to  the 
practice  of  virtue ;  and  the  man  who  will  let  any  unselfish 
consideration  stand  between  him  and  its  attainment  is 
a  weakling,  a  dupe  and  a  predestined  slave.  If  I  could 
convince  our  impecunious  mobs  of  this,  the  world  would 
be  reformed  before  the  end  of  the  week;  for  the  slug- 
gards who  are  content  to  be  wealthy  without  working 
and  the  dastards  who  are  content  to  work  without  being 
wealthy,  together  with  all  the  pseudo-moralists  and  ethi- 
cists  and  cowardice  mongers  generally,  would  be  exter- 
minated without  shrift,  to  the  unutterable  enlargement 
of  life  and  ennoblement  of  humanity.  We  might  even 
make  some  beginnings  of  civilization  under  such  happy 
circumstances. 

In  the  days  of  The  Irrational  Knot  I  had  not  learnt 
this  lesson;  consequently  I  did  not  understand  the  Brit- 
ish peerage,  just  as  I  did  not  understand  that  glorious 
and  beautiful  phenomenon,  the  "  heartless  "  rich  Ameri- 
can woman,  who  so  thoroughly  and  admirably  under- 
stands that  conscience  is  a  luxury,  and  should  be  indulged 
in  only  when  the  vital  needs  of  life  have  been  abundantly 
satisfied.  The  instinct  which  has  led  the  British  peerage 
to  fortify  itself  by  American  alliances  is  healthy  and  well 
inspired.  Thanks  to  it,  we  shall  still  have  a  few  people 
to  maintain  the  tradition  of  a  handsome,  free,  proud, 
costly  life,  whilst  the  craven  mass  of  us  are  keeping  up 
our  starveling  pretence  that  it  is  more  important  to 
be  good  than  to  be  rich,  and  piously  cheating,  robbing, 

xix 


Preface 

and  murdering  one  another  by  doing  our  duty  as  police- 
men, soldiers,  bailiffs,  jurymen,  turnkeys,  hangmen, 
tradesmen,  and  curates,  at  the  command  of  those  who 
know  that  the  golden  grapes  are  not  sour.  Why,  good 
heavens!  we  shall  all  pretend  that  this  straightforward 
truth  of  mine  is  mere  Swiftian  satire,  because  it  would 
require  a  little  courage  to  take  it  seriously  and  either  act 
on  it  or  make  me  drink  the  hemlock  for  uttering  it. 

There  was  the  less  excuse  for  my  blindness  because  I 
was  at  that  very  moment  laying  the  foundations  of  my  high 
fortune  by  the  most  ruthless  disregard  of  all  the  quack 
duties  which  lead  the  peasant  lad  of  fiction  to  the  White 
House,  and  harness  the  real  peasant  boy  to  the  plough 
until  he  is  finally  swept,  as  rubbish,  into  the  workhouse. 
I  was  an  ablebodied  and  ableminded  young  man  in  the 
strength  of  my  youth;  and  my  family,  then  heavily  em- 
barrassed, needed  my  help  urgently.  That  I  should  have 
chosen  to  be  a  burden  to  them  instead  was,  according 
to  all  the  conventions  of  peasant  lad  fiction,  monstrous. 
Well,  without  a  blush  I  embraced  the  monstrosity.  I 
did  not  throw  myself  into  the  struggle  for  life:  I  threw 
my  mother  into  it.  I  was  not  a  staff  to  my  father's  old 
age :  I  hung  on  to  his  coat  tails.  His  reward  was  to  live 
just  long  enough  to  read  a  review  of  one  of  these  silly 
novels  written  in  an  obscure  journal  by  a  personal  friend 
of  my  own  (now  eminent  in  literature  as  Mr.  John  Mack- 
innon  Robertson)  prefiguring  me  to  some  extent  as  a 
considerable  author.  I  think,  myself,  that  this  was  a 
handsome  reward,  far  better  worth  having  than  a  nice 
pension  from  a  dutiful  son  struggling  slavishly  for  his 
parent's  bread  in  some  sordid  trade.  Handsome  or  not, 
it  was  the  only  return  he  ever  had  for  the  little  pension 
he  contrived  to  export  from  Ireland  for  his  family.  My 

xx 


Preface 

mother  reinforced  it  by  drudging  in  her  elder  years  at 
the  art  of  music  which  she  had  followed  in  her  prime 
freely  for  love.  I  only  helped  to  spend  it.  People  won- 
dered at  my  heartlessness :  one  young  and  romantic  lady 
had  the  courage  to  remonstrate  openly  and  indignantly 
with  me,  "  for  the  which  "  as  Pepys  said  of  the  ship- 
wright's wife  who  refused  his  advances,  "  I  did  respect 
her."  Callous  as  Comus  to  moral  babble,  I  steadily  wrote 
my  five  pages  a  day  and  made  a  man  of  myself  (at  my 
mother's  expense)  instead  of  a  slave.  And  I  protest  that 
I  will  not  suffer  James  Huneker  or  any  romanticist  to 
pass  me  off  as  a  peasant  boy  qualifying  for  a  chapter  in. 
Smiles's  Self  Help,  or  a  good  son  supporting  a  helpless 
mother,  instead  of  a  stupendously  selfish  artist  leaning 
with  the  full  weight  of  his  hungry  body  on  an  energetic 
and  capable  woman.  No,  James:  such  lies  are  not  only 
unnecessary,  but  fearfully  depressing  and  fundamentally 
immoral,  besides  being  hardly  fair  to  the  supposed  peas- 
ant lad's  parents.  My  mother  worked  for  my  living  in- 
stead of  preaching  that  it  was  my  duty  to  work  for  hers : 
therefore  take  off  your  hat  to  her,  and  blush.* 

It  is  now  open  to  anyone  who  pleases  to  read  The 
Irrational  Knot.  I  do  not  recommend  him  to;  but  it 
is  possible  that  the  same  mysterious  force  which  drove 
me  through  the  labor  of  writing  it  may  have  had  some 
purpose  which  will  sustain  others  through  the  labor  of 
reading  it,  and  even  reward  them  with  some  ghastly  en- 
joyment of  it.  For  my  own  part  I  cannot  stand  it.  It 


*  James,  having  read  the  above  in  proof,  now  protests  he  never 
called  me  a  peasant  lad :  that  being  a  decoration  by  the  sub-editor. 
The  expression  he  used  was  "  a  poor  lad."  This  is  what  James 
calls  tact.  After  all,  there  is  something  pastoral,  elemental,  well 
aerated,  about  a  peasant  lad.  But  a  mere  poor  lad !  really,  James, 
really — /.'/ 

xxi 


Preface 

is  to  me  only  one  of  the  heaps  of  spoiled  material  that 
all  apprenticeship  involves.  I  consent  to  its  publication 
because  I  remember  that  British  colonel  who  called  on 
Beethoven  when  the  elderly  composer  was  working  at 
his  posthumous  quartets,  and  offered  him  a  commission 
for  a  work  in  the  style  of  his  jejune  septet.  Beethoven 
drove  the  Colonel  out  of  the  house  with  objurgation.  I 
think  that  was  uncivil.  There  is  a  time  for  the  septet, 
and  a  time  for  the  posthumous  quartets.  It  is  true  that 
if  a  man  called  on  me  now  and  asked  me  to  write  some- 
thing like  The  Irrational  Knot  I  should  have  to  exer- 
cise great  self-control.  But  there  are  people  who  read 
Man  and  Superman,  and  then  tell  me  (actually  to  my 
face)  that  I  have  never  done  anything  so  good  as 
Cashel  Byron's  Profession.  After  this,  there  may  be 
a  public  for  even  The  Irrational  Knot ;  so  let  it  go. 

LONDON,  May  26,  1905. 

P.S. — Since  writing  the  above  I  have  looked  through 
the  proof-sheets  of  this  book,  and  found,  with  some 
access  of  respect  for  my  youth,  that  it  is  a  fiction  of  the 
first  order.  By  this  I  do  not  mean  that  it  is  a  master- 
piece in  that  order,  or  even  a  pleasant  example  of  it, 
but  simply  that,  such  as  it  is,  it  is  one  of  those  fictions 
in  which  the  morality  is  original  and  not  readymade. 
Now  this  quality  is  the  true  diagnostic  of  the  first  order 
in  literature,  and  indeed  in  all  the  arts,  including  the 
art  of  life.  It  is,  for  example,  the  distinction  that  sets 
Shakespear's  Hamlet  above  his  other  plays,  and  that 
sets  Ibsen's  work  as  a  whole  above  Shakespear's  work 
as  a  whole.  Shakespear's  morality  is  a  mere  reach-me- 
down;  and  because  Hamlet  does  not  feel  comfortable 

xxii 


Preface 

in  it,  and  struggles  against  the  misfit,  he  suggests  some- 
thing better,  futile  as  his  struggle  is,  and  incompetent 
as  Shakespear  shews  himself  in  his  effort  to  think  out 
the  revolt  of  his  feeling  against  readymade  morality. 
Ibsen's  morality  is  original  all  through:  he  knows  well 
that  the  men  in  the  street  have  no  use  for  principles, 
because  they  can  neither  understand  nor  apply  them; 
and  that  what  they  can  understand  and  apply  are  arbi- 
trary rules  of  conduct,  often  frightfully  destructive  and 
inhuman,  but  at  least  definite  rules  enabling  the  common 
stupid  man  to  know  where  he  stands  and  what  he  may 
do  and  not  do  without  getting  into  trouble.  Now  to  all 
writers  of  the  first  order,  these  rules,  and  the  need  for 
them  produced  by  the  moral  and  intellectual  incompe- 
tence of  the  ordinary  human  animal,  are  no  more  in- 
variably beneficial  and  respectable  than  the  sunlight 
which  ripens  the  wheat  in  Sussex  and  leaves  the  desert 
deadly  in  Sahara,  making  the  cheeks  of  the  ploughman's 
child  rosy  in  the  morning  and  striking  the  ploughman 
brainsick  or  dead  in  the  afternoon;  no  more  inspired 
(and  no  less)  than  the  religion  of  the  Andaman  island- 
ers; as  much  in  need  of  frequent  throwing  away  and 
replacement  as  the  community's  boots.  By  writers  of 
the  second  order  the  readymade  morality  is  accepted  as 
the  basis  of  all  moral  judgment  and  criticism  of  the 
characters  they  portray,  even  when  their  genius  forces 
them  to  represent  their  most  attractive  heroes  and  hero- 
ines as  violating  the  readymade  code  in  all  directions. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  pretend  that  the  first  order  is 
more  readable  than  the  second!  Shakespear,  Scott, 
Dickens,  Dumas  pdre  are  not,  to  say  the  least,  less  read- 
able than  Euripides  and  Ibsen.  Nor  is  the  first  order 
always  more  constructive;  for  Byron,  Oscar  Wilde,  and 

xxiii 


Preface 

Larochefoucauld  did  not  get  further  in  positive  phi- 
losophy than  Ruskin  and  Carlyle,  though  they  could 
snuff  Ruskin's  Seven  Lamps  with  their  fingers  without 
flinching.  Still,  the  first  order  remains  the  first  order 
and  the  second  the  second  for  all  that:  no  man  who 
shuts  his  eyes  and  opens  his  mouth  when  religion  and 
morality  are  offered  to  him  on  a  long  spoon  can  share 
the  same  Parnassian  bench  with  those  who  make  an 
original  contribution  to  religion  and  morality,  were  it 
only  a  criticism. 

Therefore  on  coming  back  to  this  Irrational  Knot  as  a 
stranger  after  25  years,  I  am  proud  to  find  that  its 
morality  is  not  readymade.  The  drunken  prima  donna 
of  a  bygone  type  of  musical  burlesque  is  not  depicted 
as  an  immoral  person,  but  as  a  person  with  a  morality 
of  her  own,  no  worse  in  its  way  than  the  morality  of  her 
highly  respectable  wine  merchant  in  its  way.  The  soci- 
ology of  the  successful  inventor  is  his  own  sociology  too ; 
and  it  is  by  his  originality  in  this  respect  that  he  passes 
irresistibly  through  all  the  readymade  prejudices  that 
are  set  up  to  bar  his  promotion.  And  the  heroine,  nice, 
amiable,  benevolent,  and  anxious  to  please  and  behave 
well,  but  hopelessly  secondhand  in  her  morals  and  nice- 
nesses,  and  consequently  without  any  real  moral  force 
now  that  the  threat  of  hell  has  lost  its  terrors  for  her, 
is  left  destitute  among  the  failures  which  are  so  puzzling 
to  thoughtless  people.  "  I  cannot  understand  why  she 
is  so  unlucky :  she  is  such  a  nice  woman !  " :  that  is  the 
formula.  As  if  people  with  any  force  in  them  ever 
were  altogether  nice! 

And  so  I  claim  the  first  order  for  this  jejune  exploit 
of  mine,  and  invite  you  to  note  that  the  final  chapter,  so 
remote  from  Scott  and  Dickens  and  so  close  to  Ibsen, 


Preface 

was  written  years  before  Ibsen  came  to  my  knowledge, 
thus  proving  that  the  revolt  of  the  Life  Force  against 
readymade  morality  in  the  nineteenth  century  was  not 
the  work  of  a  Norwegian  microbe,  but  would  have 
worked  itself  into  expression  in  English  literature  had 
Norway  never  existed.  In  fact,  when  Miss  Lord's  trans- 
lation of  A  Doll's  House  appeared  in  the  eighteen- 
eighties,  and  so  excited  some  of  my  Socialist  friends 
that  they  got  up  a  private  reading  of  it  in  which  I  was 
cast  for  the  part  of  Krogstad,  its  novelty  as  a  morally 
original  study  of  a  marriage  did  not  stagger  me  as  it 
staggered  Europe.  I  had  made  a  morally  original  study 
of  a  marriage  myself,  and  made  it,  too,  without  any 
melodramatic  forgeries,  spinal  diseases,  and  suicides, 
though  I  had  to  confess  to  a  study  of  dipsomania.  At  all 
events,  I  chattered  and  ate  caramels  in  the  back  drawing- 
room  (our  green-room)  whilst  Eleanor  Marx,  as  Nora, 
brought  Helmer  to  book  at  the  other  side  of  the  folding 
doors.  Indeed  I  concerned  myself  very  little  about  Ibsen 
until,  later  on,  William  Archer  translated  Peer  Gynt  to 
me  viva  voce,  when  the  magic  of  the  great  poet  opened 
my  eyes  in  a  flash  to  the  importance  of  the  social  phi- 
losopher. 

I  seriously  suggest  that  The  Irrational  Knot  may  be 
regarded  as  an  early  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Life 
Force  to  write  A  Doll's  House  in  English  by  the  instru- 
mentality of  a  very  immature  writer  aged  24.  And 
though  I  say  it  that  should  not,  the  choice  was  not  such 
a  bad  shot  for  a  stupid  instinctive  force  hat  has  to  work 
and  become  conscious  of  itself  by  means  of  human  brains. 
If  we  could  only  realize  that  though  the  Life  Force  sup- 
plies us  with  its  own  purpose,  it  has  no  other  brains  to 
work  with  than  those  it  has  painfully  and  imperfectly 

xxv 


Preface 

evolved  in  our  heads,  the  peoples  of  the  earth  would  learn 
some  pity  for  their  gods;  and  we  should  have  a  religion 
that  would  not  be  contradicted  at  every  turn  by  the  thing 
that  is  giving  the  lie  to  the  thing  that  ought  to  be. 

WELWYN,  Sunday,  June  25,  1905. 


xxn 


BOOK    I 


THE  IRRATIONAL   KNOT 


CHAPTER    I 

AT  seven  o'clock  on  a  fine  evening  in  April  the 
gas  had  just  been  lighted  in  a  room  on  the  first 
floor  of  a  house  in  York  Road,  Lambeth.  A 
man,  recently  washed  and  brushed,  stood  on  the  hearth- 
rug before  a  pier  glass,  arranging  a  white  necktie,  part 
of  his  evening  dress.  He  was  about  thirty,  well  grown, 
and  fully  developed  muscularly.  There  was  no  cloud  of 
vice  or  trouble  upon  him :  he  was  concentrated  and  calm, 
making  no  tentative  movements  of  any  sort  (even  a  white 
tie  did  not  puzzle  him  into  fumbling),  but  acting  with  a 
certainty  of  aim  and  consequent  economy  of  force,  dread- 
ful to  the  irresolute.  His  face  was  brown,  but  his  auburn 
hair  classed  him  as  a  fair  man. 

The  apartment,  a  drawing-room  with  two  windows,  was 
dusty  and  untidy.  The  paint  and  wall  paper  had  not  been 
renewed  for  years ;  nor  did  the  pianette,  which  stood  near 
the  fireplace,  seem  to  have  been  closed  during  that  time ; 
for  the  interior  was  dusty,  and  the  inner  end  of  every  key 
begrimed.  On  a  table  between  the  windows  were  some 
tea  things,  with  a  heap  of  milliner's  materials,  and  a  brass 
candlestick  which  had  been  pushed  back  to  make  room 
for  a  partially  unfolded  cloth.  There  was  a  second  table 


The   Irrational   Knot 

near  the  door,  crowded  with  coils,  batteries,  a  galvanom- 
eter, and  other  electrical  apparatus.  The  mantelpiece 
was  littered  with  dusty  letters,  and  two  trays  of  Doulton 
ware  which  ornamented  it  were  filled  with  accounts, 
scraps  of  twine,  buttons,  and  rusty  keys. 

A  shifting,  rustling  sound,  as  of  somebody  dressing, 
which  had  been  audible  for  some  minutes  through  the 
folding  doors,  now  ceased,  and  a  handsome  young  woman 
entered.  She  had  thick  black  hair,  fine  dark  eyes,  an 
oval  face,  a  clear  olive  complexion,  and  an  elastic  figure. 
She  was  incompletely  attired  in  a  petticoat  that  did  not 
hide  her  ankles,  and  stays  of  bright  red  silk  with  white 
laces  and  seams.  Quite  unconcerned  at  the  presence  of 
the  man,  she  poured  out  a  cup  of  tea;  carried  it  to  the 
mantelpiece;  and  began  to  arrange  her  hair  before  the 
glass.  He,  without  looking  round,  completed  the  ar- 
rangement of  his  tie,  looked  at  it  earnestly  for  a  moment, 
and  said,  "  Have  you  got  a  pin  about  you  ?  " 

"  There  is  one  in  the  pincushion  on  my  table,"  she 
said ;  "  but  I  think  it's  a  black  one.  I  dont  know  where 
the  deuce  all  the  pins  go  to."  Then,  casting  off  the  sub- 
ject, she  whistled  a  long  and  florid  cadenza,  and  added, 
by  way  of  instrumental  interlude,  a  remarkably  close 
imitation  of  a  violoncello.  Meanwhile  the  man  went  into 
her  room  for  the  pin.  On  his  return  she  suddenly  became 
curious,  and  said,  "  Where  are  you  going  to-night,  if  one 
may  ask  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  out." 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  turned  contemp- 
tuously to  the  mirror,  saying,  "  Thank  you.  Sorry  to  be 
inquisitive." 

"  I  am  going  to  sing  for  the  Countess  of  Carbury  at  a 
concert  at  Wandsworth." 

8 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  Sing !  You !  The  Countess  of  Barbury !  Does  she 
live  at  Wandsworth  ?  " 

"  No.    She  lives  in  Park  Lane." 

"  Oh !  I  beg  her  pardon."  The  man  made  no  com- 
ment on  this;  and  she,  after  looking  doubtfully  at  him 
to  assure  herself  that  he  was  in  earnest,  continued,  "  How 
does  the  Countess  of  Whatshername  come  to  know  you, 
pray?" 

"Why  not?" 

A  long  pause  ensued.  Then  she  said :  "  Stuff !  ",  but 
without  conviction.  Her  exclamation  had  no  apparent 
effect  on  him  until  he  had  buttoned  his  waistcoat  and 
arranged  his  watch-chain.  Then  he  glanced  at  a  sheet  of 
pink  paper  which  lay  on  the  mantelpiece.  She  snatched 
it  at  once ;  opened  it ;  stared  incredulously  at  it ;  and  said, 
"  Pink  paper,  and  scalloped  edges !  How  filthily 
vulgar !  I  thought  she  was  not  much  of  a  Countess ! 
Ahem !  '  Music  for  the  People.  Parnassus  Society.  A 
concert  will  be  given  at  the  Town  Hall,  Wandsworth,  on 
Tuesday,  the  25th  April,  by  the  Countess  of  Carbury, 
assisted  by  the  following  ladies  and  gentlemen.  Miss 
Elinor  McQuinch  ' — what  a  name !  '  Miss  Marian  Lind  ' 
— who's  Miss  Marian  Lind  ?  " 

"How  should  I  know?" 

"  I  only  thought,  as  she  is  a  pal  of  the  Countess,  that 
you  would  most  likely  be  intimate  with  her.  '  Mrs.  Leith 
Fairfax/  There  is  a  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  who  writes 
novels,  and  very  rotten  novels  they  are,  too.  Who  are 
the  gentlemen  ?  '  Mr.  Marmaduke  Lind  ' — brother  to 
Miss  Marian,  I  suppose.  '  Mr.  Edward  Conolly ' — save 
the  mark!  they  must  have  been  rather  hard  up  for  gen- 
tlemen when  they  put  you  down  as  one.  The  Conolly 
family  is  looking  up  at  last.  Hm!  nearly  a  dozen  alto- 


The   Irrational   Knot 

gather.  '  Tickets  will  be  distributed  to  the  families  of 
working  men  by  the  Rev.  George  Lind  ' — pity  they  didnt 
engage  Jenny  Lind  on  purpose  to  sing  with  you.  'A 
limited  number  of  front  seats  at  one  shilling.  Please 
turn  over.  Part  I.  Symphony  in  F :  Haydn.  Arranged 
for  four  English  concertinas  by  Julius  Baker.  Mr.  Julius 
Baker;  Master  Julius  Abt  Baker;  Miss  Lisette  Baker 
(aged  8)  ;  and  Miss  Totty  Baker  (aged  6^)'.  Good 
Lord !  '  Song :  Rose  softly  blooming :  Spohr.  Miss 
Marian  Lind.'  I  wonder  whether  she  can  sing !  '  Polo- 
naise in  A  flat  major :  Chopin  ' — what  rot !  As  if  work- 
ing people  cared  about  Chopin!  Miss  Elinor  McQuinch 
is  a  fool,  I  see.  '  Song :  The  Valley :  Gounod.'  Of 
course :  I  knew  you  would  try  that.  Oho !  Here's  some- 
thing sensible  at  last.  '  Nigger  melody.  Uncle  Ned. 
Mr.  Marmaduke  Lind,  accompanied  by  himself  on  the 
banjo.' 

Dum,  drum.     Dum,  drum.     Dum,  drum.     Dum — 
'And  there  was  an  ole  nigga ;  and  his  name  was  Uncle  Ned ; 

An'  him  dead  long  ago,  long  ago. 
An'  he  had  no  hair  on  the  top  of  his  head 

In  the  place  where  the  wool  ought  to  grow.' 

Mr.  Marmaduke  Lind  will  get  a  double  encore;  and 
no  one  will  take  the  least  notice  of  you  or  the  others. 
'  Recitation.  The  Faithful  Soul.  Adelaide  Proctor. 
Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.'  Well,  this  certainly  is  a  blessed 
attempt  to  amuse  Wandsworth.  Another  reading  by 

the  Rev. " 

Here  Conolly,  who  had  been  putting  on  his  overcoat, 
picked  the  program  deftly  from  his  sister's  fingers,  and 
left  the  room.  She,  after  damning  him  very  heartily, 

10 


The   Irrational   Knot 

returned  to  the  glass,  and  continued  dressing,  taking  her 
tea  at  intervals  until  she  was  ready  to  go  out,  when  she 
sent  for  a  cab,  and  bade  the  driver  convey  her  to  the 
Bijou  Theatre,  Soho. 

Conolly,  on  arriving  at  the  Wandsworth  Town  Hall, 
was  directed  to  a  committee  room,  which  served  as  green- 
room on  this  occasion.  He  was  greeted  by  a  clean  shaven 
young  clergyman  who  protested  that  he  was  glad  to  see 
him  there,  but  did  not  offer  his  hand.  Conolly  thanked 
him  briefly,  and  went  without  further  ceremony  to  the 
table,  and  was  about  to  place  his  hat  and  overcoat  on  a 
heap  of  similar  garments,  when,  observing  that  there  were 
some  hooks  along  the  wall,  he  immediately  crossed  over 
and  hung  up  his  things  on  them,  thereby  producing  an 
underbred  effect  of  being  more  prudent  and  observant 
than  the  rest.  Then  he  looked  at  his  program,  and 
calculated  how  soon  his  turn  to  sing  would  come.  Then 
he  unrolled  his  music,  and  placed  two  copies  of  Le  Vallon 
ready  to  his  hand  upon  the  table.  Having  made  these 
arrangements  with  a  self-possession  that  quite  discon- 
certed the  clergyman,  he  turned  to  examine  the  rest  of 
the  company. 

His  first  glance  was  arrested  by  the  beauty  of  a  young 
lady  with  light  brown  hair  and  gentle  grey  eyes,  who  sat 
near  the  fire.  Beside  her,  on  a  lower  chair,  was  a  small, 
lean,  and  very  restless  young  woman  with  keen  dark  eyes 
staring  defiantly  from  a  worn  face.  These  two  were  at- 
tended by  a  jovial  young  gentleman  with  curly  auburn 
hair,  who  was  twanging  a  banjo,  and  occasionally  pro- 
voking an  exclamation  of  annoyance  from  the  restless 
girl  by  requesting  her  opinion  of  his  progress  in  tuning 
the  instrument.  Near  them  stood  a  tall  man,  dark  and 
handsome.  He  seemed  unused  to  his  present  circum- 

II 


The   Irrational   Knot 

stances,  and  contemptuous,  not  of  the  company  nor  the 
object  for  which  they  were  assembled,  but  in  the  abstract, 
as  if  habitual  contempt  were  part  of  his  nature. 

The  clergyman,  who  had  just  conducted  to  the  platform 
an  elderly  professor  in  a  shabby  frock  coat,  followed  by 
three  well-washed  children,  each  of  whom  carried  a  con- 
certina, now  returned  and  sat  down  beside  a  middle-aged 
lady,  who  made  herself  conspicuous  by  using  a  gold 
framed  eyeglass  so  as  to  convey  an  impression  that  she 
was  an  exceedingly  keen  observer. 

"  It  is  fortunate  that  the  evening  is  so  fine,"  said  the 
clergyman  to  her. 

"Yes,  is  it  not,  Mr.  Lind?" 

"  My  throat  is  always  affected  by  bad  weather,  Mrs. 
Leith  Fairfax.  I  shall  be  so  handicapped  by  the  inevi- 
table comparison  of  my  elocution  with  yours,  that  I  am 
glad  the  weather  is  favorable  to  me,  though  the  compari- 
son is  not." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  with  decision.  "  I  am  not  in 
the  least  an  orator.  I  can  repeat  a  poem :  that  is  all. 
Oh !  I  hope  I  have  not  broken  my  glasses."  They  had 
slipped  from  her  nose  to  the  floor.  Conolly  picked  them 
up  and  straightened  them  with  one  turn  of  his  fingers. 

"  No  harm  done,  madam,"  said  he,  with  a  certain 
elocutionary  correctness,  and  rather  in  the  strong  voice 
of  the  workshop  than  the  subdued  one  of  the  drawing- 
room,  handing  the  glasses  to  her  ceremoniously  as  he 
spoke. 

"  Thank  you.  You  are  very  kind,  very  kind  indeed," 
Conolly  bowed,  and  turned  again  toward  the  other 
group. 

"  Who  is  that  ?  "  whispered  Mrs.  Fairfax  to  the  clergy- 
man. 

12 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Some  young  man  who  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
Countess  by  his  singing.  He  is  only  a  workman." 

''Indeed!     Where  did  she  hear  him  sing?" 

"  In  her  son's  laboratory,  I  believe.  He  came  there  to 
put  up  some  electrical  machinery,  and  sang  into  a  tele- 
phone for  their  amusement.  You  know  how  fond  Lord 
Jasper  is  of  mechanics.  Jasper  declares  that  he  is  a 
genius  as  an  electrician.  Indeed  it  was  he,  rather  than 
the  Countess,  who  thought  of  getting  him  to  sing  for  us." 

"  How  very  interesting !  I  saw  that  he  was  clever 
when  he  spoke  to  me.  There  is  so  much  in  trifles — in 
byplay,  Mr.  Lind.  Now,  his  manner  of  picking  up  my 
glass  had  his  entire  history  in  it.  You  will  also  see  it 
in  the  solid  development  of  his  head.  That  young  man 
deserves  to  be  encouraged." 

"  You  are  very  generous,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  It 
would  not  be  well  to  encourage  him  too  much,  however. 
You  must  recollect  that  he  is  not  used  to  society.  Inju- 
dicious encouragement  might  perhaps  lead  him  to  forget 
his  real  place  in  it." 

"  I  do  not  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Lind.  You  do  not  read 
human  nature  as  I  do.  You  know  that  I  am  an  expert. 
I  see  men  as  he  sees  a  telegraph  instrument,  quite  unin- 
fluenced by  personal  feeling." 

"  True,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  But  the  heart  is  deceitful 
above  all  things  and  des — at  least  I  should  say — er. 
That  is,  you  will  admit  that  the  finest  perception  may  err 
in  its  estimate  of  the  inscrutable  work  of  the  Almighty." 

"  Doubtless.  But  really,  Mr.  Lind,  human  beings  are 
so  shallow !  I  assure  you  there  is  nothing  at  all  inscru- 
table about  them  to  a  trained  analyst  of  character.  It 
may  be  a  gift,  perhaps ;  but  people's  minds  are  to  me  only 
little  machines  made  up  of  superficial  motives." 

13 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  say,"  said  the  young  gentleman  with  the  banjo, 
interrupting  them :  "  have  you  got  a  copy  of  '  Rose  softly 
blooming  '  there  ?  " 

"  I !  "  said  Mrs.  Fairfax.     "  No,  certainly  not." 

"  Then  it's  all  up  with  the  concert.  We  have  forgotten 
Marian's  music;  and  there  is  nothing  for  Nelly — I  beg 
pardon,  I  mean  Miss  McQuinch — to  play  from.  She  is 
above  playing  by  ear." 

"  I  cannot  play  by  ear,"  said  the  restless  young  lady, 
angrily. 

"  If  you  will  sing  '  Coal  black  Rose '  instead,  Marian, 
I  can  accompany  you  on  the  banjo,  and  back  you  up  in 
the  chorus.  The  Wandsworthers — if  they  survive  the 
concertinas — will  applaud  the  change  as  one  man." 

"  It  is  so  unkind  to  joke  about  it,"  said  the  beautiful 
young  lady.  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  If  somebody  will  vamp 
an  accompaniment,  I  can  get  on  very  well  without  any 
music.  But  if  I  try  to  play  for  myself  I  shall  break 
down." 

Conolly  here  stepped  aside,  and  beckoned  to  the 
clergyman. 

"  That  young  man  wants  to  speak  to  you,"  whispered 
Mrs.  Fairfax. 

"  Oh,  indeed.  Thank  you,"  said  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lind, 
stiffly.  "  I  suppose  I  had  better  see  what  he  requires." 

"  I  suppose  you  had,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  with  some 
impatience. 

"  I  dont  wish  to  intrude  where  I  have  no  business," 
said  Conolly  quietly  to  the  clergyman ;  "  but  I  can  play 
that  lady's  accompaniment,  if  she  will  allow  me." 

The  clergyman  was  too  much  afraid  of  Conolly  by  this 
time — he  did  not  know  why — to  demur.  "  I  am  sure  she 
will  not  object,"  he  said,  pretending  to  be  relieved  by  the 

14 


The   Irrational   Knot 

offer.  "  Your  services  will  be  most  acceptable.  Excuse 
me  for  one  moment,  whilst  I  inform  Miss  Lind." 

He  crossed  the  room  to  the  lady,  and  said  in  a  lower 
tone,  "  I  think  I  have  succeeded  in  arranging  the  matter, 
Marian.  That  man  says  he  will  play  for  you." 

"  I  hope  he  can  play,"  said  Marian  doubtfully.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"  It  is  Conolly.    Jasper's  man." 

Miss  Lind's  eyes  lighted.  "Is  that  he?"  she  whis- 
pered, glancing  curiously  across  the  room  at  him. 
"  Bring  him  and  introduce  him  to  us." 

"  Is  that  necessary?  "  said  the  tall  man,  without  lower- 
ing his  voice  sufficiently  to  prevent  Conolly  from  hearing 
him.  The  clergyman  hesitated. 

"  It  is  quite  necessary :  I  do  not  know  what  he  must 
think  of  us  already,"  said  Marian,  ashamed,  and  looking 
apprehensively  at  Conolly.  He  was  staring  with  a  police- 
manlike  expression  at  the  tall  man,  who,  after  a  vain 
attempt  to  ignore  him,  had  eventually  to  turn  away. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Lind  then  led  the  electrician  forward,  and 
avoided  a  formal  presentation  by  saying  with  a  simper: 
"  Here  is  Mr.  Conolly,  who  will  extricate  us  from  all 
our  difficulties." 

Miss  McQuinch  nodded.  Miss  Lind  bowed.  Mar- 
maduke  shook  hands  good-naturedly,  and  retired  some- 
what abashed,  thrumming  his  banjo.  Just  then  a  faint 
sound  of  clapping  was  followed  by  the  return  of  the 
quartet  party,  upon  which  Miss  Lind  rose  and  moved 
hesitatingly  toward  the  platform.  The  tall  man  offered 
his  hand. 

"  Nonsense,  Sholto,"  said  she,  laughing.  "  They  will 
expect  you  to  do  something  if  you  appear  with  me." 

"Allow  me,  Marian,"  said  the  clergyman,  as  the  tall 

15 


The   Irrational   Knot 

man,  offended,  bowed  and  stood  aside.  She,  pretending 
not  to  notice  her  brother,  turned  toward  Conolly,  who 
at  once  passed  the  Rev.  George,  and  led  her  to  the 
platform. 

"  The  original  key  ?  "  he  enquired,  as  they  mounted 
the  steps. 

"  I  dont  know,"  she  said,  alarmed. 

For  a  moment  he  was  taken  aback.  Then  he  said, 
"  What  is  the  highest  note  you  can  sing  ?  " 

"I  can  sing  A  sometimes — only  when  I  am  alone.  I 
dare  not  attempt  it  before  people." 

Conolly  sat  down,  knowing  now  that  Miss  Lind  was 
a  commonplace  amateur.  He  had  been  contrasting  her 
with  his  sister,  greatly  to  the  disparagement  of  his  home 
life;  and  he  was  disappointed  to  find  the  lady  break 
down  where  the  actress  would  have  succeeded  so  well. 
Consoling  himself  with  the  reflexion  that  if  Miss  Lind 
could  not  rap  out  a  B  flat  like  Susanna,  neither  could  she 
rap  out  an  oath,  he  played  the  accompaniment  much 
better  than  Marian  sang  the  song.  Meanwhile,  Miss 
McQuinch,  listening  jealously  in  the  green-room,  hated 
herself  for  her  inferior  skill. 

"  Cool,  and  reserved,  is  the  modern  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin," observed  Marmaduke  to  her. 

"  Better  a  reserved  man  who  can  do  something  than 
a  sulky  one  who  can  do  nothing,"  she  said,  glancing  at 
the  tall  man,  with  whom  the  clergyman  was  nervously 
striving  to  converse. 

"  Exquisite  melody,  is  it  not,  Mr.  Douglas  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  coming  to  the  clergyman's  rescue. 

"  I  do  not  care  for  music,"  said  Douglas,  "  I  lack  the 
maudlin  disposition  in  which  the  taste  usually  thrives." 

Miss   McQuinch  gave  an   expressive   snap,  but   said 

16 


The   Irrational   Knot 

nothing;  and  the  conversation  dropped  until  Miss  Lind 
had  sung  her  song,  and  received  a  round  of  respectful 
but  not  enthusiastic  applause. 

"  Trmnk  you,  Mr.  Conolly,"  she  said,  as  she  left  the 
platform.  "  I  am  afraid  that  Spohr's  music  is  too  good 
for  the  people  here.  Dont  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replied  Conolly.  "  There  is  nothing 
so  very  particular  in  Spohr.  But  he  requires  very  good 
singing — better  than  he  is  worth." 

Miss  Lind  colored,  and  returned  in  silence  to  her  seat 
beside  Miss  McQuinch,  feeling  that  she  had  exposed 
herself  to  a  remark  that  no  gentleman  would  have  made. 

"  Now  then,  Nelly,"  said  Marmaduke :  "  the  parson  is 
going  to  call  time.  Keep  up  your  courage.  Come,  get 
up,  get  up." 

"  Do  not  be  so  boisterous,  Duke,"  said  Marian.  "  It 
is  bad  enough  to  have  to  face  an  audience  without  being 
ridiculed  beforehand." 

"  Marian,"  said  Marmaduke,  "  if  you  think  Nelly  will 
hammer  a  love  of  music  into  the  British  workman,  you 
err.  Lots  of  them  get  their  living  by  hammering,  and 
they  will  most  likely  resent  feminine  competition.  Bang ! 
There  she  goes.  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  piano, 
and  let  us  hope  its  trembling  limbs  wont  come  through 
the  floor." 

"  Really,  Marmaduke,"  said  Marian,  impatiently,  "  you 
are  excessively  foolish.  You  are  like  a  boy  fresh  from 
school." 

Marmaduke,  taken  aback  by  her  sharp  tone,  gave  a 
long  whispered  whistle,  and  pretended  to  hide  under  the 
table.  He  had  a  certain  gift  of  drollery  which  made  it 
difficult  not  to  laugh  even  at  his  most  foolish  antics,  and 
Marian  was  giving  way  in  spite  of  herself  when  she 

17 


The   Irrational   Knot 

found  Douglas  bending  over  her  and  saying,  in  a  low 
voice : 

"  You  are  tired  of  this  place.  The  room  is  very 
draughty:  I  fear  it  will  give  you  cold.  Let  me  drive 
you  home  now.  An  apology  can  be  made  for  whatever 
else  you  are  supposed  to  do  for  these  people.  Let  me 
get  your  cloak  and  call  a  cab." 

Marian  laughed.  "  Thank  you,  Sholto,"  she  said ; 
"  but  I  assure  you  I  am  quite  happy.  Pray  do  not  look 
offended  because  I  am  not  so  uncomfortable  as  you  think 
I  ought  to  be." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  happy,"  said  Douglas  in  his  for- 
mer cold  tone.  "  Perhaps  my  presence  is  rather  a  draw- 
back to  your  enjoyment  than  otherwise." 

"  I  told  you  not  to  come,  Sholto ;  but  you  would.  Why 
not  adapt  yourself  to  the  circumstances,  and  be  agree- 
able?" 

"  I  am  not  conscious  of  being  disagreeable." 

"  I  did  not  mean  that.  Only  I  do  not  like  to  see  you 
making  an  enemy  of  every  one  in  the  room,  and  forcing 
me  to  say  things  that  I  know  must  hurt  you." 

"  To  the  enmity  of  your  new  associates  I  am  supremely 
indifferent,  Marian.  To  that  of  your  old  friends  I  am 
accustomed.  I  am  not  in  the  mood  to  be  lectured  on  my 
behavior  at  present;  besides,  the  subject  is  hardly  worth 
pursuing.  May  I  gather  from  your  remarks  that  I  shall 
gratify  you  by  withdrawing?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Marian,  flushing  slightly,  and  looking 
steadily  at  him.  Then,  controlling  her  voice  with  an 
effort,  she  added,  "  Do  not  try  again  to  browbeat  me 
into  telling  you  a  falsehood,  Sholto." 

Douglas  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  Before  he  could 
answer,  Miss  McQuinch  reappeared. 

18 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Well,  Nelly,"  said  Marmaduke :  "  is  there  any  piano 
left?" 

"  Not  much,"  she  replied,  with  a  sullen  laugh.  "  I 
never  played  worse  in  my  life." 

"  Wrong  notes  ?  or  deficiency  in  the  sacred  fire  ?  " 

"  Both." 

"  I  believe  your  song  comes  next,"  said  the  clergyman 
to  Conolly,  who  had  .been  standing  apart,  listening  to 
Miss  McQuinch's  performance. 

"  Who  is  to  accompany  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  Oh — ah — Miss  McQuinch  will,  I  am  sure,"  replied 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Lind,  smiling  nervously.  Conolly  looked 
grave.  The  young  lady  referred  to  closed  her  lips; 
frowned ;  said  nothing.  Marmaduke  chuckled. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  rather  play  your  own  accompani- 
ment," said  the  clergyman,  weakly. 

Conolly  shook  his  head  decisively,  and  said,  "  I  can 
do  only  one  thing  at  a  time,  sir." 

"  Oh,  they  are  not  very  critical :  they  are  only  work- 
men," said  the  clergyman,  and  then  reddened  deeply  as 
Marmaduke  gave  him  a  very  perceptible  nudge. 

"  I'll  not  take  advantage  of  that,  as  I  am  only  a  work- 
man myself,"  said  Conolly.  "  I  had  rather  leave  the 
song  out  than  accompany  myself." 

"  Pray  dont  suppose  that  I  wish  to  be  disagreeable, 
Mr.  Lind,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  as  the  company  looked 
doubtfully  at  her ;  "  but  I  have  disgraced  myself  too  com- 
pletely to  trust  my  fingers  again.  I  should  spoil  the  song 
if  I  played  the  accompaniment." 

"  I  think  you  might  try,  Nell,"  said  Marmaduke,  re- 
proachfully. 

"  I  might,"  retorted  Miss  Quinch ;  "  but  I  wont." 

19 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  If  somebody  doesnt  go  out  and  do  something,  there 
will  be  a  shindy,"  said  Marmaduke. 

Marian  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  rose.  "  I  am  a 
very  indifferent  player,"  she  said ;  "  but  since  no  better 
is  to  be  had,  I  will  venture — if  Mr.  Conolly  will  trust  me." 

Conolly  bowed. 

"If  you  would  rather  not,"  said  Miss  McQuinch, 
shamed  into  remorse,  "  I  will  try  the  accompaniment. 
But  I  am  sure  to  play  it  all  wrong." 

"  I  think  Miss  McQuinch  had  better  play,"  said 
Douglas. 

Conolly  looked  at  Marian;  received  a  reassuring  glance; 
and  went  to  the  platform  with  her  without  further  ado. 
She  was  not  a  sympathetic  accompanist ;  but,  not  know- 
ing this,  she  was  not  at  all  put  out  by  it.  She  felt  too 
that  she  was,  as  became  a  lady,  giving  the  workman  a 
lesson  in  courtesy  which  might  stand  him  in  stead  when 
he  next  accompanied  "  Rose,  softly  blooming."  She  was 
a  little  taken  aback  on  finding  that  he  not  only  had  a  rich 
baritone  voice,  but  was,  as  far  as  she  could  judge,  an 
accomplished  singer. 

"  Really,"  she  said  as  they  left  the  platform,  "  you  sing 
most  beautifully." 

"  One  would  hardly  have  expected  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
smile. 

Marian,  annoyed  at  having  this  side  of  her  compli- 
ment exposed,  did  not  return  the  smile,  and  went  to  her 
chair  in  the  green-room  without  taking  any  further  notice 
of  him. 

"  I  congratulate  you,"  said  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  to  Con- 
olly, looking  at  him,  like  all  the  rest  except  Douglas,  with 
a  marked  access  of  interest.  "Ah!  what  wonderful 
depth  there  is  in  Gounod's  music !  " 

20 


The   Irrational   Knot 

He  assented  politely  with  a  movement  of  his  head. 

"  I  know  nothing  at  all  about  music,"  said  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax. 

"  Very  few  people  do." 

"  I  mean  technically,  of  course,"  she  said,  not  quite 
pleased. 

"  Of  course." 

A  tremendous  burst  of  applause  here  followed  the 
conclusion  of  the  first  verse  of  "  Uncle  Ned." 

"  Do  come  and  listen,  Nelly,"  said  Marian,  returning 
to  the  door.  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  Conolly  presently  went 
to  the  door  too. 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  help  in  the  chorus,  Nelly  ?  " 
said  Marian  in  a  low  voice,  as  the  audience  began  to  join 
uproariously  in  the  refrain. 

"  Not  particularly,"  said  Miss  McQuinch. 

"  Sholto,"  said  Marian,  "  come  and  share  our  vulgar 
joy.  We  want  you  to  join  in  the  chorus." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Douglas,  "  I  fear  I  am  too  indiffer- 
ent a  vocalist  to  do  justice  to  the  occasion." 

"  Sing  with  Mr.  Conolly  and  you  cannot  go  wrong," 
said  Miss  McQuinch. 

"  Hush,"  said  Marian,  interposing  quickly  lest  Douglas 
should  retort.  "  There  is  the  chorus.  Shall  we  really 
join?" 

Conolly  struck  up  the  refrain  without  further  hesi- 
tation. Marian  sang  with  him.  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  the 
clergyman  looked  furtively  at  one  another,  but  forbore 
to  swell  the  chorus.  Miss  McQuinch  sang  a  few  words 
in  a  piercing  contralto  voice,  and  then  stopped  with  a 
gesture  of  impatience,  feeling  that  she  was  out  of  tune. 
Marian,  with  only  Conolly  to  keep  her  in  countenance, 
felt  relieved  when  Marmaduke,  thrice  encored,  entered 

21 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  room  in  triumph.  Whilst  he  was  being  congratu- 
lated, Douglas  turned  to  Miss  McQuinch,  who  was  pre- 
tending to  ignore  Marmaduke's  success. 

"  I  hope,  Miss  McQuinch,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  that 
you  will  be  able  to  relieve  Marian  at  the  piano  next  time. 
You  know  how  she  dislikes  having  to  play  accompani- 
ments for  strangers." 

"  How  mean  it  is  of  you  to  be  jealous  of  a  plumber!  " 
said  Miss  McQuinch,  with  a  quick  glance  at  him  which 
she  did  not  dare  to  sustain,  so  fiercely  did  he  return  it. 
When  she  looked  again,  he  seemed  unconscious  of  her 
presence,  and  was  buttoning  his  overcoat. 

"  Really  going  at  last,  Sholto  ?  "  said  Marian.  Doug- 
las bowed. 

"  I  toid  you  you  wouldnt  be  able  to  stand  it,  old  man," 
said  Marmaduke.  "  Mrs.  Bluestockings  wont  be  pleased 
with  you  for  not  staying  to  hear  her  recite."  This  re- 
ferred to  Mrs.  Fairfax,  who  had  just  gone  upon  the 
platform. 

"  Good  night,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  shortly,  anxious 
to  test  how  far  he  was  offended,  but  unwilling  to  appear 
solicitous  for  a  reconciliation. 

"  Until  to-morrow,  farewell,"  he  said,  approaching 
Marian,  who  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  smile:  Conolly 
looking  thoughtfully  at  him  meanwhile.  He  left  the 
room ;  and  so,  Mrs.  Fairfax  having  gone  to  the  platform 
to  recite,  quiet  prevailed  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  Shall  I  have  the  pleasure  of  playing  the  accompani- 
ment to  your  next  song  ?  "  said  Conolly,  sitting  down  near 
Marian. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Marian,  shrinking  a  little :  "  I  think 
Miss  McQuinch  knows  it  by  heart."  Then,  still  anxious 

22 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  be  affable  to  the  workman,  she  added,  "  Lord  Jasper 
says  you  are  a  great  musician." 

"  No,  I  am  an  electrician.  Music  is  not  my  business : 
it  is  my  amusement." 

"  You  have  invented  something  very  wonderful,  have 
you  not  ?  " 

"  I  have  discovered  something,  and  I  am  trying  to 
invent  a  means  of  turning  it  to  account.  It  will  be  only 
a  cheap  electro-motor  if  it  comes  to  anything." 

"  You  must  explain  that  to  me  some  day,  Mr.  Conolly. 
I'm  afraid  I  dont  know  what  an  electro-motor  means." 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  mentioned  it,"  said  Conolly.  "  It 
is  so  constantly  in  my  mind  that  I  am  easily  led  to  talk 
about  it.  I  try  to  prevent  myself,  but  the  very  effort 
makes  me  think  of  it  more  than  ever." 

"  But  I  like  to  hear  you  talk  about  it,"  said  Marian. 
"  I  always  try  to  make  people  talk  shop  to  me,  and  of 
course  they  always  repay  me  by  trying  to  keep  on  in- 
different topics,  of  which  I  know  as  much — or  as  little — 
as  they." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Conolly,  "  an  electro-motor  is  only 
an  engine  for  driving  machinery,  just  like  a  steam  engine, 
except  that  it  is  worked  by  electricity  instead  of  steam. 
Electric  engines  are  so  imperfect  now  that  steam  ones 
come  cheaper.  The  man  who  finds  out  how  to  make  the 
electric  engine  do  what  the  steam  engine  now  does,  and 
do  it  cheaper,  will  make  his  fortune  if  he  has  his  wits 
about  him.  Thats  what  I  am  driving  at." 

Miss  Lind,  in  spite  of  her  sensible  views  as  to  talking 
shop,  was  not  interested  in  the  least.  "  Indeed!"  she  said. 
"  How  interesting  that  must  be !  But  how  did  you  find 
time  to  become  so  perfect  a  musician,  and  to  sing  so 
exquisitely  ?  " 

23 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  picked  most  of  it  up  when  I  was  a  boy.  My  grand- 
father was  an  Irish  sailor  with  such  a  tremendous  voice 
that  a  Neapolitan  music  master  brought  him  out  in  opera 
as  a  buffo.  When  he  had  roared  his  voice  away,  he  went 
into  the  chorus.  My  father  was  reared  in  Italy,  and 
looked  more  Italian  than  most  genuine  natives.  He  had 
no  voice;  so  he  became  first  accompanist,  then  chorus 
master,  and  finally  trainer  for  the  operatic  stage.  He 
speculated  in  an  American  tour;  married  out  there;  lost 
all  his  money;  and  came  over  to  England,  when  I  was 
only  twelve,  to  resume  his  business  at  Covent  Garden. 
I  stayed  in  America,  and  was  apprenticed  to  an  electrical 
engineer.  I  worked  at  the  bench  there  for  six  years." 

"  I  suppose  your  father  taught  you  to  sing." 

"  No.  He  never  gave  me  a  lesson.  The  fact  is,  Miss 
Lind,  he  was  a  capital  man  to  teach  stage  tricks  and 
traditional  renderings  of  old  operas ;  but  only  the  excep- 
tionally powerful  voices  survived  his  method  of  teaching. 
He  would  have  finished  my  career  as  a  singer  in  two 
months  if  he  had  troubled  himself  to  teach  me.  Never 
go  to  Italy  to  learn  singing." 

"  I  fear  you  are  a  cynic.  You  ought  either  to  believe 
in  your  father  or  else  be  silent  about  him." 

"Why?" 

"Why!  Surely  we  should  hide  the  failings  of  those 
we  love?  I  can  understand  now  how  your  musical  and 
electrical  tastes  became  mixed  up;  but  you  should  not 
confuse  your  duties.  But  please  excuse  me:  "  (Conolly's 
eyes  had  opened  a  little  wider)  "  I  am  lecturing  you, 
without  the  least  right  to.  It  is  a  failing  of  mine  which 
you  must  not  mind." 

"  Not  at  all.  Youve  a  right  to  your  opinion.  But 
the  world  would  never  get  on  if  every  practical  man  were 

24 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  stand  by  his  father's  mistakes.  However,  I  brought 
it  on  myself  by  telling  you  a  long  story.  This  is  the  first 
opportunity  I  ever  had  of  talking  about  myself  to  a  lady, 
and  I  suppose  I  have  abused  it." 

Marian  laughed.  "  We  had  better  stop  apologizing  to 
one  another,"  she  said.  "  What  about  the  accompani- 
ments to  our  next  songs  ?  " 

Meanwhile  Marmaduke  and  Miss  McQuinch  were  be- 
coming curious  about  Marian  and  Conolly. 

"  I  say,  Nelly,"  he  whispered,  "  Marian  and  that  young 
man  seem  to  be  getting  on  uncommonly  well  together. 
She  looks  sentimentally  happy,  and  he  seems  pleased  with 
himself.  Dont  you  feel  jealous?" 

"  Jealous !     Why  should  I  be  ?  " 

"  Out  of  pure  cussedness.  Not  that  you  care  for  the 
electric  man,  but  because  you  hate  any  one  to  fall  in  love 
with  any  one  else  when  you  are  by." 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  away." 

"  Why  ?     Dont  you  like  me  ?  " 

"  I  loathe  you.     Now,  perhaps  you  understand  me." 

"  That's  a  nice  sort  of  thing  to  say  to  a  fellow,"  said 
Marmaduke,  roused.  "  I  have  a  great  mind  to  bring  you 
to  your  senses  as  Douglas  does,  by  not  speaking  to  you 
for  a  week." 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  come  to  my  senses  by  not 
speaking  to  me  at  all." 

"Oh !  Well,  I  am  off ;  but  mind,  Nelly,  I  am  offended. 
We  are  no  longer  on  speaking  terms.  Look  as  contemp- 
tuous as  you  please :  you  will  be  sorry  when  you  think 
over  this.  Remember:  you  said  you  loathed  me." 

"  So  I  do,"  said  Elinor,  stubbornly. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Marmaduke,  turning  his  back  on 
her.  Just  then  the  concertinists  returned  from  the  plat- 

25 


The   Irrational   Knot 

form,  and  a  waiter  appeared  with  refreshments,  which 
the  clergyman  invited  Marmaduke  to  assist  him  in  dis- 
pensing. Conolly,  considering  the  uncorking  of  bottles 
of  soda  water  a  sufficiently  skilled  labor  to  be  more  in- 
teresting than  making  small  talk,  went  to  the  table  and 
busied  himself  with  the  corkscrew. 

"  Well,  Nelly,"  said  Marian,  drawing  her  chair  close 
to  Miss  McQninch,  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice,  "  what 
do  you  think  of  Jasper's  workman?" 

"  Not  much,"  replied  Elinor,  shrugging  her  shoulders. 
"  He  is  very  conceited,  and  very  coarse." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  I  expected  to  find  you  de- 
lighted with  his  unconventional ity.  I  thought  him  rath- 
er amusing." 

"  I  thought  him  extremely  aggravating.  I  hate  to 
have  to  speak  to  people  of  that  sort." 

"  Then  you  consider  him  vulgar,"  said  Marian,  dis- 
appointed. 

"  N — no.  Not  vulgarer  than  anybody  else.  He 
couldnt  be  that." 

"  Sherry  and  soda,  Marian  ?  "  said  Marmaduke,  ap- 
proaching. 

"  No,  thank  you,  Marmaduke.     Get  Nelly  something." 

"As  Miss  McQuinch  and  I  are  no  longer  on  speaking 
terms,  I  leave  her  to  the  care  of  yonder  scientific  amateur, 
who  has  just  refused,  on  teetotal  grounds,  to  pledge  the 
Rev.  George  in  a  glass  of  eighteen  shilling  sherry." 

"  Dont  be  silly,  Marmaduke.  Bring  Nelly  some  soda 
water." 

"  Do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Miss  McQuinch. 

Marmaduke  bowed  and  retired. 

"  What  is  the  matter  between  you  and  Duke  now  ?  " 
said  Marian. 

26 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  Nothing.    I  told  him  I  loathed  him." 

"  Oh !  I  dont  wonder  at  his  being  a  little  huffed. 
How  can  you  say  things  you  dont  mean  ?  " 

"  I  do  mean  them.  What  with  his  folly,  Sholto's  mean 
conceit,  George's  hypocrisy,  that  man's  vulgarity,  Mrs. 
Fairfax's  affectation,  your  insufferable  amiability,  and  the 
dreariness  of  those  concertina  people,  I  feel  so  wretched 
that  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  loathe  anybody  and 
everybody." 

"  Nonsense,  Nelly !    You  are  only  in  the  blues." 

"  Only  in  the  blues !  "  said  Miss  McQuinch  sarcastic- 
ally. "Yes.  That  is  all." 

"  Take  some  sherry.     It  will  brighten  you  up." 

"  Dutch  courage !  Thank  you :  I  prefer  my  present 
moroseness." 

"  But  you  are  not  morose,  Nelly." 

"  Oh,  stuff,  Marian !  Dont  throw  away  your  amiability 
on  me.  Here  comes  your  new  friend  with  refreshments. 
I  wonder  was  he  ever  a  waiter?  He  looks  exactly  like 
one." 

After  this  the  conversation  flagged.  Mrs.  Fairfax 
grew  loquacious  under  the  influence  of  sherry,  but  pres- 
ently a  reaction  set  in,  and  she  began  to  yawn.  Miss 
McQuinch,  when  her  turn  came,  played  worse  than  be- 
fore, and  the  audience,  longing  for  another  negro  melody, 
paid  little  attention  to  her.  Marian  sang  a  religious  song, 
which  was  received  with  the  respect  usually  accorded  to 
a  dull  sermon.  The  clergyman  read  a  comic  essay  of 
his  own  composition,  and  Mrs.  Fairfax  recited  an  ode 
to  Mazzini.  The  concertinists  played  an  arrangement 
of  a  quartet  by  Onslow.  The  working  men  and  women 
of  Wandsworth  gaped,  and  those  who  sat  near  the  door 
began  to  slip  out.  Even  Miss  McQuinch  pitied  them. 

27 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  The  idea  of  expecting  them  to  be  grateful  for  an 
infliction  like  that !  "  she  said.  "  What  do  people  of  their 
class  care  about  Onslow's  quartets  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  people  of  any  class,  high  or  low, 
would  be  gratified  by  such  an  entertainment?"  said 
Conolly,  with  some  warmth.  No  one  had  sufficient  spirit 
left  to  reply. 

At  last  the  concertinists  went  home,  and  the  reading 
drew  to  a  close.  Conolly,  again  accompanied  by  Marian, 
sang  "  Tom  Bowling."  The  audience  awoke,  cheered 
the  singer  heartily,  and  made  him  sing  again.  On  his 
return  to  the  green-room,  Miss  McQuinch,  much  affected 
at  the  fate  of  Bowling,  and  indignant  with  herself  for 
being  so,  stared  defiantly  at  Conolly  through  a  film  of 
tears.  When  Marmaduke  went  out,  the  people  also  were 
so  moved  that  they  were  ripe  for  laughter,  and  with 
roars  of  merriment  forced  him  to  sing  three  songs,  in  the 
choruses  of  which  they  joined.  Eventually  the  clergy- 
man had  to  bid  them  go  home,  as  Mr.  Lind  had  given 
them  all  the  songs  he  knew. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  not  come  with  us,  Duke,"  said 
Marian,  when  all  was  over,  and  they  were  preparing  to 
leave.  "  We  can  drop  you  at  your  chambers  if  you  like ; 
but  you  will  have  to  sit  on  the  box.  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax, 
George,  Nelly,  and  I,  will  be  a  carriageful." 

Marmaduke  looked  at  his  watch.  "  By  Jove !  "  he  cried, 
"  it  is  only  ten.  I  forgot  how  early  we  began  to-night. 
No  thank  you,  Marian:  I  am  not  going  your  way;  but 
you  may  take  the  banjo  and  keep  it  until  I  call.  Ta  ta!  " 

They  all  went  out  together;  and  the  ladies,  followed 
by  the  clergyman,  entered  their  carriage  and  drove 
away,  leaving  Marmaduke  and  Conolly  standing  on  the 

28 


The  Irrational   Knot 

pavement.  Having  shared  the  success  of  the  concert, 
each  felt  well  disposed  to  the  other. 

"  What  direction  are  you  going  in  ?  "  said  Marmaduke. 

"  Westminster  Bridge  or  thereabouts,"  replied  Conolly. 
"  This  place  is  rather  out  of  the  way." 

"  Have  you  anything  particular  to  do  before  you  turn 
in  for  the  night  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all." 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  old  man.  Lets  take  a 
hansom,  and  drive  off  to  the  Bijou.  We  shall  just  be  in 
time  to  see  Lalage  Virtue  in  the  burlesque;  and — look 
here!  I'll  introduce  you  to  her:  youre  just  the  sort  of 
chap  she  would  like  to  know.  Eh  ?  " 

Conolly  looked  at  him,  nodded,  and  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. Marmaduke,  who  had  set  him  down  as  a  cool,  un- 
demonstrative man,  was  surprised  at  his  hilarity  for  a 
moment,  but  presently  joined  in  it.  Whilst  they  were 
both  laughing  a  hansom  appeared,  and  Conolly,  recover- 
ing himself,  hailed  the  driver. 

"  We  shall  get  on  together,  I  see,"  said  Marmaduke, 
jumping  into  the  cab.  "Hallo!  The  Bijou  Theatre, 
Soho,  and  drive  as  fast  as  you  can  afford  to  for  half  a 
sovereign." 

"  Right  you  are,  sir,"  replied  the  driver,  whipping  his 
horse. 

The  rattling  of  the  cab  silenced •  Conolly ;  but  his  com- 
panion persisted  for  some  time  in  describing  the  burlesque 
to  which  they  were  going,  and  particularly  the  attractions 
of  Mademoiselle  Lalage  Virtue,  who  enacted  a  principal 
character  therein,  and  with  whom  he  seemed  to  be  in  love. 
When  they  alighted  at  the  theatre  Marmaduke  payed  the 
cabman,  and  Conolly  took  advantage  of  this  to  enter  the 
theatre  and  purchase  two  stall  tickets,  an  arrangement 

29 


The  Irrational   Knot 

which  Lind,  suddenly  recollecting  his  new  friend's  po- 
sition, disapproved  of,  but  found  it  useless  to  protest 
against.  He  forgot  it  on  hearing  the  voice  of  Lalage 
Virtue,  who  was  at  that  moment  singing  within ;  and  he 
went  to  his  stall  with  his  eyes  turned  to  the  stage, 
treading  on  toes  and  stumbling  as  children  commonly 
do  when  they  walk  in  one  direction  and  look  in  another. 
An  attendant,  who  seemed  to  know  him,  proffered  a  glass 
for  hire.  He  took  it,  and  leveled  it  at  Mademoiselle  La- 
lage, who  was  singing  some  trivial  couplets  much  better 
than  they  deserved.  Catching  sight  of  him  presently, 
she  greeted  him  with  a  flash  of  her  dark  eye  that  made 
him  writhe  as  though  his  heart  had  received  a  fillip  from 
a  ponderable  missile.  She  did  not  spare  these  roguish 
glances.  They  darted  everywhere ;  and  Conolly,  looking 
about  him  to  note  their  effect,  saw  rows  of  callow  young 
faces  with  parted  lips  and  an  expression  which  seemed 
to  have  been  caught  and  fixed  at  the  climax  of  a  blissful 
chuckle.  There  were  few  women  in  the  stalls,  and  the 
silly  young  faces  were  relieved  only  by  stupid  old  ones. 

The  couplets  ended  amidst  great  applause.  Marma- 
duke  placed  his  glass  on  his  knees,  and,  clapping  his 
hands  vigorously,  turned  to  his  companion  with  a  trium- 
phant smile,  mutely  inviting  him  to  clamor  for  a 
repetition  of  the  air.  But  Conolly  sat  motionless,  with 
his  arms  folded,  his  cheek  flushed,  and  his  brow  lowered. 

"  You  dont  seem  used  to  this  sort  of  thing,"  said  Lind, 
somewhat  disgusted. 

"  It  was  well  sung,"  replied  Conolly  " — better  than 
most  of  these  blackguards  know." 

"  Then  why  dont  you  clap  ?  " 

"  Because  she  is  not  giving  herself  any  trouble.    That 

30 


The   Irrational   Knot 

sort  of  thing,  from  a  woman  of  her  talent,  is  too  cheap 
to  say  '  thank  you  '  for." 

Marmaduke  looked  at  him,  and  began  to  think  that  he 
was  a  priggish  fellow  after  all.  But  as  the  burlesque 
went  on,  Mademoiselle  Lalage  charmed  away  this  disa- 
greeable impression.  She  warbled  in  an  amorous  duet, 
and  then  sang  the  pleasures  of  champagne;  tossing  her 
head ;  waving  a  gilt  goblet ;  and,  without  the  least  appear- 
ance of  effort,  working  hard  to  captivate  those  who  were 
to  be  won  by  bold  smiles  and  arch  glances.  She  dis- 
played her  person  less  freely  than  her  colleagues,  being, 
not  more  modest,  but  more  skilful  in  the  art  of  seduc- 
tion. The  slang  that  served  for  dialogue  in  her  part  was 
delivered  in  all  sorts  of  intonations,  now  demure  and 
mischievous,  anon  strident  and  mock  tragic.  Marmaduke 
was  delighted. 

"  What  I  like  about  her  is  that  she  is  such  a  genuine 
little  lady,"  he  said,  as  her  exit  released  his  attention. 
"  With  all  her  go,  she  is  never  a  bit  vulgar.  Off  the  stage 
she  is  just  the  same.  Not  a  spark  of  affectation  about 
her.  It  is  all  natural." 

"  You  know  her,  then  ?  "  said  Conolly. 

"  I  should  think  I  do,"  replied  Marmaduke,  energetic- 
ally. "  You  have  no  idea  what  a  rattling  sort  she  is." 

"  To  you,  who  only  see  her  occasionally,  no  doubt  she 
gives — as  a  rattling  sort — a  heightened  charm  to  the 
order,  the  refinement,  the — the  beauty  of  the  home  life 
which  you  can  enjoy.  Excuse  my  introducing  such  a 
subject,  Mr.  Lind ;  but  would  you  bring  your  cousin — 
the  lady  who  sang  to-night  at  the  concert — to  see  this 
performance  ?  " 

"  I  would  if  she  asked  me  to,"  said  Marmaduke,  some- 
what taken  aback. 

31 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  No  doubt.  But  should  you  be  surprised  if  she  asked 
you?" 

"  Not  a  bit.  Fine  ladies  are  neither  such  fools  nor 
such  angels  as  you — as  some  fellows  think.  Miss  Lind's 
notion  is  to  see  everything.  And  yet  she  is  a  thoroughly 
nice  woman  too.  It  is  the  same  with  Lalage  there.  She 
is  not  squeamish,  and  she  is  full  of  fun ;  but  she  knows  as 
well  as  anybody  how  to  pull  up  a  man  who  doesnt  behave 
himself." 

"And  you  actually  think  that  this  Lalage  Virtue  is  as 
respectable  a  woman  as  your  cousin?  " 

"  Oh,  I  dont  bother  myself  about  it.  I  shouldnt  have 
thought  of  comparing  them  if  you  hadnt  started  the  idea. 
Marian's  way  is  not  the  other  one's  way,  and  each  of 
them  is  all  right  in  her  own  way.  Look  here.  I'll  in- 
troduce you  to  Lalage.  We  can  pick  up  somebody  else 
to  make  a  party  for  you,  and  finish  with  a  supper  at 
Jellicoe's." 

"Are  you  privileged  to  introduce  whom  you  like  to 
Miss  Lalage  ?  " 

"  Well,  as  to  that,  she  doesnt  stand  much  on  ceremony ; 
but  then,  you  see,  that  cuts  two  ways.  The  mere  intro- 
ducing is  no  difficulty;  but  it  depends  on  the  man  him- 
self whether  he  gets  snubbed  afterward  or  not.  By  the 
bye,  you  must  understand,  if  you  dont  know  it  already, 
that  Lalage  is  as  correct  in  her  morals  as  a  bishop's  wife. 
I  just  tell  you,  because  some  fellows  seem  to  think  that 
a  woman  who  goes  on  the  stage  leaves  her  propriety 
behind  as  a  matter  of  course.  In  fact,  I  rather  thought 
so  myself  once.  Not  that  you  wont  find  loose  women 
there  as  well  as  anywhere  else,  if  you  want  to.  But  dont 
take  it  for  granted,  that's  all." 

"  Well,"  said  Conolly,  "  you  may  introduce  me,  and 

32 


The  Irrational  Knot 

we  can  consider  the  supper  afterwards.  Would  it  be 
indiscreet  to  ask  how  you  obtained  your  own  introduc- 
tion? You  dont,  I  suppose,  move  in  the  same  circle 
as  she;  and  if  she  is  as  particular  as  your  own  people, 
she  can  hardly  form  promiscuous  acquaintanceships." 

"A  man  at  the  point  of  death  does  not  stop  to  think 
about  etiquet.    She  saved  my  life." 

"  Saved  your  life !  That  sounds  romantic." 
"  There  was  precious  little  romance  about  it,  though 
I  owe  my  being  alive  now  to  her  presence  of  mind.  It 
happened  in  the  rummest  way.  I  was  brought  behind 
the  scenes  one  night  by  a  Cambridge  chum.  We  were 
painting  the  town  a  bit  red.  We  were  not  exactly  drunk ; 
but  we  were  not  particularly  sober  either ;  and  I  was  very 
green  at  that  time,  and  made  a  fool  of  myself  about 
Lalage:  staring;  clapping  like  a  madman  in  the  middle 
of  her  songs;  getting  into  the  way  of  everybody  and 
everything,  and  so  on.  Then  a  couple  of  fellows  we 
knew  turned  up,  and  we  got  chatting  at  the  wing 
with  some  girls.  At  last  a  fellow  came  in  with  a  bag 
of  cherries ;  and  we  began  trying  that  old  trick — you 
know — taking  the  end  of  a  stalk  between  your  lips  and 
drawing  the  cherry  into  •  the  mouth  without  touching 
it  with  your  hand,  you  know.  I  tried  it;  and  I  was  just 
getting  the  cherry  into  my  mouth  when  some  idiot  gave 
me  a  drive  in  the  waistcoat.  I  made  a  gulp;  and  the 
cherry  stuck  fast  in  my  throat.  I  began  to  choke.  No- 
body knew  what  to  do ;  and  while  they  were  pushing  me 
about,  some  thinking  I  was  only  pretending,  the  girls 
beginning  to  get  frightened,  and  the  rest  shouting  at  me 
to  swallow  the  confounded  thing,  I  was  getting  black  in 
the  face,  and  my  head  was  bursting :  I  could  see  nothing 
but  red  spots.  It  was  a  near  thing,  I  tell  you.  Suddenly 

33 


The   Irrational   Knot 

I  got  a  shake;  and  then  a  little  fist  gave  me  a  stunning 
thump  on  the  back,  that  made  the  cherry  bounce  out 
against  my  palate.  I  gasped  and  coughed  like  a  gram- 
pus :  the  stalk  was  down  my  throat  still.  Then  the  little 
hand  grabbed  my  throat  and  made  me  open  my  mouth 
wide;  and  the  cherry  was  pulled  out,  stalk  and  all.  It 
was  Lalage  who  did  this  while  the  rest  were  gaping 
helplessly.  I  dont  remember  what  followed.  I  thought 
I  had  fainted;  but  it  appears  that  I  nearly  cried,  and 
talked  the  most  awful  nonsense  to  her.  I  suppose  the 
choking  made  me  hysterical.  However,  I  distinctly  rec- 
ollect the  stage  manager  bullying  the  girls,  and  turning 
us  all  out.  I  was  very  angry  with  myself  for  being 
childish,  as  they  told  me  I  had  been;  and  when  I  got 
back  to  Cambridge  I  actually  took  to  reading.  A  few 
months  afterward  I  made  another  trip  to  town,  and  went 
behind  the  scenes  again.  She  recognized  me,  and  chaffed 
me  about  the  cherry.  I  jumped  at  my  chance;  I  im- 
proved the  acquaintance;  and  now  I  know  her  pretty 
well." 

"  You  doubt  whether  any  of  the  ladies  that  were  with 
us  at  the  concert  would  have  been  equally  useful  in  such 
an  emergency?" 

"  I  should  think  I  do  doubt  it,  my  boy.  Hush !  Now 
that  the  ballet  is  over,  we  are  annoying  people  by  talking." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Conolly.  "Aha !  Here  is 
Miss  Lalage  again." 

Marmaduke  raised  his  opera-glass  to  his  eyes,  eager 
for  another  smile  from  the  actress.  He  seemed  about  to 
be  gratified;  for  her  glance  was  travelling  toward  him 
along  the  row  of  stalls.  But  it  was  arrested  by  Conolly, 
on  whom  she  looked  with  perceptible  surprise  and  dismay. 
Lind,  puzzled,  turned  toward  his  companion,  and  found 

34 


The   Irrational   Knot 

him  smiling  maliciously  at  Mademoiselle  Lalage,  who 
recovered  her  vivacity  with  an  effort,  and  continued  her 
part  with  more  nervousness  than  he  had  ever  seen  her 
display  before. 

Shortly  before  the  curtain  fell,  they  left  the  theatre, 
and  re-entered  it  by  the  stage  door. 

"  Queer  place,  isnt  it  ?  "  said  Lind. 

Conolly  nodded,  but  went  forward  like  one  well  ac- 
customed to  the  dingy  labyrinth  of  old-fashioned  stages. 
Presently  they  came  upon  Lalage.  She  was  much  heated 
by  her  exertions,  thickly  painted,  and  very  angry. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said  quarrelsomely. 

Marmaduke,  perceiving  that  her  challenge  was  not 
addressed  to  him,  but  to  Conolly,  looked  from  one  to  the 
other,  mystified. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  you  act  at  last,"  said  Conolly. 

"  You  might  have  told  me  you  were  coming.  I  could 
have  got  you  a  stall,  although  I  suppose  you  would 
have  preferred  to  throw  away  your  money  like  a  fool." 

"  I  must  admit,  my  dear,"  said  Conolly,  "  that  I  could 
have  spent  it  to  much  greater  advantage." 

"  Indeed !  and  you !  "  she  said,  turning  to  Lind,  whose 
deepening  color  betrayed  his  growing  mortification: 
"  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"  I  have  played  a  trick  on  your  friend,"  said  Conolly. 
"  He  suggested  this  visit ;  and  I  did  not  tell  him  of  the 
relation  between  us.  Finding  us  on  terms  of  familiarity, 
if  not  of  affection,  he  is  naturally  surprised." 

"As  I  have  never  tried  to  meddle  with  your  private 
affairs,"  said  Marmaduke  to  Lalage,  "  I  need  not  apolo- 
gize for  not  knowing  your  husband.  But  I  regret " 

The  actress  laughed  in  spite  of  her  vexation.    "  Why, 

35 


The  Irrational   Knot 

you  silly  old  thing !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  he  is  no  more  my 
husband  than  you  are !  " 

"  Oh !  "  said  Marmaduke.     "  Indeed !  " 

"  I  am  her  brother,"  said  Conolly  considerately,  stifling 
a  smile. 

"  Why,"  said  Mademoiselle  Lalage  fiercely,  raising  her 
voice,  "  what  else  did  you  think  ?  " 

"  Hush,"  said  Conolly,  "  we  are  talking  too  much  in 
this  crowd.  You  had  better  change  your  dress,  Susanna, 
and  then  we  can  settle  what  to  do  next." 

"  You  can  settle  what  you  please,"  she  replied.  "  I 
am  going  home." 

"  Mr.  Lind  has  suggested  our  supping  together,"  said 
Conolly,  observing  her  curiously. 

Susanna  looked  quickly  at  them. 

"  Who  is  Mr.  Lind?  "  she  said. 

"  Your  friend,  of  course,"  said  Conolly,  with  an  an- 
swering flash  of  intelligence  that  brought  out  the  re- 
semblance between  them  startlingly.  "  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Lind." 

Marmaduke  became  very  red  as  they  both  waited  for 
him  to  explain. 

"  I  thought  that  you  would  perhaps  join  us  at  supper," 
he  said  to  Susanna. 

"  Did  you  ?  "  she  said,  threateningly.  Then  she  turned 
her  back  on  him  and  went  to  her  dressing-room. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Lind,"  said  Conolly,  "  what  do  you  think 
of  Mademoiselle  Lalage  now  ?  " 

"  I  think  her  annoyance  is  very  natural,"  said  Marma- 
duke, gloomily.  "  No  doubt  you  are  right  to  take  care 
of  your  sister,  but  you  are  very  much  mistaken  if  you 
think  I  meant  to  act  badly  toward  her." 

"  It  is  no  part  of  my  duty  to  take  care  of  her,"  said 

36 


The  Irrational   Knot 

Conolly,  seriously.  "  She  is  her  own  guardian,  and  she 
has  never  been  encouraged  to  suppose  that  her  respon- 
sibility lies  with  any  one  but  herself." 

"  It  doesnt  matter  now,"  said  Marmaduke ;  "  for  I 
intend  never  to  speak  to  her  again." 

Conolly  laughed.  "  However  that  may  turn  out,"  he 
said,  "  we  are  evidently  not  in  the  mood  for  further 
conviviality,  so  let  us  postpone  the  supper  to  some  other 
occasion.  May  I  advise  you  not  to  wait  until  Susanna 
returns.  There  is  no  chance  of  a  reconciliation  to-night." 

"  I  dont  want  any  reconciliation." 

"  Of  course  not ;  I  had  forgotten,"  replied  Conolly, 
placably.  "  Then  I  suppose  you  will  go  before  she  has 
finished  dressing." 

"  I  shall  go  now,"  said  Marmaduke,  buttoning  his 
overcoat,  and  turning  away. 

"  Good-night,"  said  Conolly. 

"  Good-night,"  muttered  Marmaduke,  petulantly,  and 
disappeared. 

Conolly  waited  a  moment,  so  that  he  might  not  over- 
take Lind.  He  then  went  for  a  cab,  and  waited  at  the 
stage  door  until  his  sister  came  down,  frowning.  She 
got  into  the  hansom  without  a  /word. 

"  Why  dont  you  have  a  brougham,  instead  of  going 
about  in  cabs  ?  "  he  said,  as  they  drove  away. 

"  Because  I  like  a  hansom  better  than  a  brougham ;  and 
I  had  rather  pay  four  shillings  a  night  and  travel  com- 
fortably, than  thirteen  and  be  half  suffocated." 

"  I  thought  the  appearance  of " 

"  There  is  no  use  in  your  talking  to  me.  I  cant  hear 
a  word  you  say  going  over  these  stones." 

When  they  were  alone  together  in  their  drawing-room 
in  Lambeth,  he,  after  walking  up  and  down  the  room  a 

37 


The   Irrational   Knot 

few  times,  and  laughing  softly  to  himself,  began  to  sing 
the  couplets  from  the  burlesque. 

"Are  you  aware,"  she  inquired,  "  that  it  is  half  past 
twelve,  and  that  the  people  of  the  house  are  trying  to 
sleep." 

"  True,"  said  he,  desisting.  "  By  the  bye,  I,  too,  have 
had  my  triumphs  this  evening.  I  shared  the  honors  of 
the  concert  with  Master  Lind,  who  was  so  delighted  that 
he  insisted  on  bringing  me  off  to  the  Bijou.  He  loves 
you  to  distraction,  poor  devil !  " 

"  Yes :  you  made  a  nice  piece  of  mischief  there.  Where 
is  he?" 

"  Gone  away  in  a  rage,  swearing  never  to  speak  to 
you  again." 

"  Hm !  And  so  his  name  is  Lind,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Didnt  you  know  ?  " 

"  No,  or  I  should  have  told  you  when  I  read  the  pro- 
gram this  evening.  The  young  villain  pretended  that 
his  name  was  Marmaduke  Sharp." 

"Ah!  The  name  reminds  me  of  one  of  his  cousins, 
a  little  spitfire  that  snaps  at  every  one  who  presumes  to 
talk  to  her." 

"  His  cousins !  Oh,  of  course ;  you  met  them  at  the 
concert.  What  are  they  like  ?  Are  they  swells  ?  " 

"  Yes,  they  seem  to  be.  There  were  only  two  cousins, 
Miss  McQuinch  and  a  young  woman  named  Marian, 
blonde  and  rather  good  looking.  There  was  a  brother 
of  hers  there,  but  he  is  only  a  parson,  and  a  tall  fellow 
named  Douglas,  who  made  rather  a  fool  of  himself.  I 
could  not  make  him  out  exactly." 

"Did  they  snub  you?" 

"  I  dont  know.     Probably  they  tried.     Are  you  inti- 

38 


The   Irrational   Knot 

mate  with  many  of  our  young  nobility  under  assumed 
names  ?  " 

"  Steal  a  few  more  marches  to  the  Bijou,  and  perhaps 
you  will  find  out." 

"  Good-night !  Pardon  my  abrupt  departure,  but  you 
are  not  the  very  sweetest  of  Susannas  to-night." 

"  Oh,  good-night" 

"  By  the  bye,"  said  Conolly,  returning,  "  this  must  be 
the  Mr.  Duke  Lind  who  is  going  to  marry  Lady  Con- 
stance Carbury,  my  noble  pupil's  sister." 

"  I  am  sure  it  matters  very  little  whom  he  marries." 

."  If  he  will  pay  us  a  visit  here,  and  witness  the  work- 
ing of  perfect  frankness  without  affection,  and  perfect 
liberty  without  refinement,  he  may  find  reason  to  con- 
clude that  it  matters  a  good  deal.  Good-night." 


CHAPTER   II 

MARIAN  LIND  lived  at  Westbourne  Terrace, 
Paddington,  with  her  father,  the  fourth  son  of 
a  younger  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Carbury.  Mr. 
Reginald  Harrington  Lind,  at  the  outset  of  his  career, 
had  no  object  in  life  except  that  of  getting  through  it  as 
easily  as  possible ;  and  this  he  understood  so  little  how  to 
achieve  that  he  suffered  himself  to  be  married  at  the 
age  of  nineteen  to  a  Lancashire  cotton  spinner's  heiress. 
She  bore  him  three  children,  and  then  eloped  with  a  pro- 
fessor of  spiritualism,  who  deserted  her  on  the  eve  of 
her  fourth  confinement,  in  the  course  of  which  she  caught 
scarlet  fever  and  died.  Her  child  survived,  but  was  sent 
to  a  baby  farm  and  starved  to  death  in  the  usual  manner. 
Her  husband,  disgusted  by  her  behavior  ( for  she  had  been 
introduced  by  him  to  many  noblemen  and  gentlemen,  his 
personal  friends,  some  one  at  least  of  whom,  on  the 
slightest  encouragement,  would,  he  felt  sure,  have  taken 
the  place  of  the  foreign  charlatan  she  had  disgraced  him 
by  preferring),  consoled  himself  for  her  bad  taste  by 
entering  into  her  possessions,  which  comprised  a  quantity 
of  new  jewellery,  new  lace,  and  feminine  apparel,  and  an 
income  of  nearly  seven  thousand  pounds  a  year.  After 
this,  he  became  so  welcome  in  society  that  he  could  have 
boasted  with  truth  at  the  end  of  any  July  that  there  were 
few  marriageable  gentlewomen  of  twenty-six  and  up- 
ward in  London  who  had  not  been  submitted  to  his 
inspection  with  a  view  to  matrimony.  But  finding  it 
easy  to  delegate  the  care  of  his  children  to  school  princi- 

40 


The   Irrational   Knot 

pals  and  hospitable  friends,  he  concluded  that  he  had 
nothing  to  gain  and  much  comfort  to  lose  by  adding  a 
stepmother  to  his  establishment ;  and,  after  some  time,  it 
became  the  custom  to  say  of  Mr.  Lind  that  the  memory 
of  his  first  wife  kept  him  single.  Thus,  whilst  his  sons 
were  drifting  to  manhood  through  Harrow  and  Cam- 
bridge, and  his  daughter  passing  from  one  relative's  house 
to  another's  on  a  continual  round  of  visits,  sharing  such 
private  tuition  as  the  cousins  with  whom  she  happened 
to  be  staying  happened  to  be  receiving  just  then,  he  lived 
at  his  club  and  pursued  the  usual  routine  of  a  gentleman- 
bachelor  in  London. 

In  the  course  of  time,  Reginald  Lind,  the  eldest  child, 
entered  the  army,  and  went  to  India  with  his  regiment. 
His  brother  George,  less  stolid,  weaker,  and  more  stu- 
dious, preferred  the  Church.  Marian,  the  youngest,  from 
being  constantly  in  the  position  of  a  guest,  had  early 
acquired  habits  of  self-control  and  consideration  for 
others,  and  escaped  the  effects,  good  and  evil,  of  the 
subjection  in  which  children  are  held  by  the  direct  au- 
thority of  their  parents. 

Of  the  numerous  domestic  circles  of  her  father's  kin, 
that  with  which  she  was  the  least  familiar,  because  it  was 
the  poorest,  had  sprung  from  the  marriage  of  one  of  her 
father's  sisters  with  a  Wiltshire  gentleman  named  Hardy 
McQuinch,  who  had  a  small  patrimony,  a  habit  of  farm- 
ing, and  a  love  of  hunting.  In  the  estimation  of  the 
peasantry,  who  would  not  associate  lands,  horses,  and  a 
carriage,  with  want  of  money,  he  was  a  rich  man ;  but 
Mrs.  McQuinch  found  it  hard  to  live  like  a  lady  on  their 
income,  and  had  worn  many  lines  into  her  face  by  con- 
stantly and  vainly  wishing  that  she  could  afford  to  give 
a  ball  every  season,  to  get  a  new  carriage,  and  to  appear 

41 


The   Irrational   Knot 

at  church  with  her  daughters  in  new  dresses  oftener  than 
twice  a  year.  Her  two  eldest  girls  were  plump  and 
pleasant,  good  riders  and  hearty  eaters;  and  she  had 
reasonable  hopes  of  marrying  them  to  prosperous  country 
gentlemen. 

Elinor,  her  third  and  only  other  child,  was  one  of  her 
troubles.  At  an  early  age  it  was  her  practice,  once  a 
week  or  thereabouts,  to  disappear  in  the  forenoon;  be 
searched  anxiously  for  all  day;  and  return  with  a  torn 
frock  and  dirty  face  at  about  six  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
She  was  stubborn,  rebellious,  and  passionate  under  re- 
proof or  chastisement:  governesses  had  left  the  house 
because  of  her;  and  from  one  school  she  had  run  away, 
from  another  eloped  with  a  choir  boy  who  wrote  verses. 
Him  she  deserted  in  a  fit  of  jealousy,  quarter  of  an  hour 
after  her  escape  from  school.  The  only  one  of  her  tastes 
that  conduced  to  the  peace  of  the  house  was  for  reading ; 
and  even  this  made  her  mother  uneasy ;  for  the  books  she 
liked  best  were  fit,  in  Mrs.  McQuinch's  opinion,  for  the 
bookcase  only.  Elinor  read  openly  what  she  could  ob- 
tain by  asking,  such  as  Lamb's  Tales  from  Shakespear, 
and  The  Pilgrim's  Progress.  The  Arabian  Nights  En- 
tertainments were  sternly  refused  her;  so  she  read  them 
by  stealth;  and  from  that  day  there  was  always  a  col- 
lection of  books,  borrowed  from  friends,  or  filched  from 
the  upper  shelf  in  the  library,  beneath  her  mattress. 
Nobody  thought  of  looking  there  for  them ;  and  even  if 
they  had,  they  might  have  paused  to  reflect  on  the  con- 
sequences of  betraying  her.  Her  eldest  sister  having 
given  her  a  small  workbox  on  her  eleventh  birthday,  had 
the  present  thrown  at  her  head  two  days  later  for  report- 
ing to  her  parents  that  Nelly's  fondness  for  sitting  in  a 
certain  secluded  summer-house  was  due  to  her  desire  to 

42 


The   Irrational   Knot 

read  Lord  Byron's  poetry  unobserved.  Miss  Lydia's 
forehead  was  severely  cut;  and  Elinor,  though  bitterly 
remorseful,  not  only  refused  to  beg  pardon  for  her  fault, 
but  shattered  every  brittle  article  in  the  room  to  which 
she  was  confined  for  her  contumacy.  The  vicar,  on 
being  consulted,  recommended  that  she  should  be  well 
whipped.  This  counsel  was  repugnant  to  Hardy  Mc- 
Quinch,  but  he  gave  his  wife  leave  to  use  her  discretion 
in  the  matter.  The  mother  thought  that  the  child  ought 
to  be  beaten  into  submission;  but  she  was  afraid  to  un- 
dertake the  task,  and  only  uttered  a  threat,  which  was 
received  with  stubborn  defiance.  This  was  forgotten  next 
day  when  Elinor,  exhausted  by  a  week  of  remorse,  terror, 
rage,  and  suspense,  became  dangerously  ill.  When  she 
recovered,  her  parents  were  more  indulgent  to  her,  and 
were  gratified  by  finding  her  former  passionate  resistance 
replaced  by  sulky  obedience.  Five  years  elapsed,  and 
Elinor  began  to  write  fiction.  The  beginning  of  a  novel, 
and  many  incoherent  verses  imitated  from  Lara,  were 
discovered  by  her  mother,  and  burnt  by  her  father.  This 
outrage  she  never  forgave.  She  was  unable  to  make  her 
resentment  felt,  for  she  no  longer  cared  to  break  glass 
and  china.  She  feared  even  to  remonstrate  lest  she 
should  humiliate  herself  by  bursting  into  tears,  as,  since 
her  illness,  she  had  been  prone  to  do  in  the  least  agitation. 
So  she  kept  silence,  and  ceased  to  speak  to  either  of  her 
parents  except  when  they  addressed  questions  to  her. 
Her  father  would  neither  complain  of  this  nor  confess 
the  regret  he  felt  for  his  hasty  destruction  of  her  manu- 
scripts; but,  whilst  he  proclaimed  that  he  would  burn 
every  scrap  of  her  nonsense  that  might  come  into  his 
hands,  he  took  care  to  be  blind  when  he  surprised  her 
with  suspicious  bundles  of  foolscap,  and  snubbed  his 

43 


The   Irrational   Knot 

wife  for  hinting  that  Elinor  was  secretly  disobeying  him. 
Meanwhile  her  silent  resentment  never  softened,  and 
the  life  of  the  family  was  embittered  by  their  conscious- 
ness of  it.  It  never  occurred  to  Mrs.  McQuinch,  an  ex- 
cellent mother  to  her  two  eldest  daughters,  that  she  was 
no  more  fit  to  have  charge  of  the  youngest  than  a  turtle 
is  to  rear  a  young  eagle.  The  discomfort  of  their  rela- 
tions never  shook  her  faith  in  their  "  naturalness."  Like 
her  husband  and  the  vicar,  she  believed  that  when  God 
sent  children  he  made  their  parents  fit  to  rule  them.  And 
Elinor  resented  her  parents'  tyranny,  as  she  felt  it  to  be, 
without  dreaming  of  making  any  allowances  for  their 
being  in  a  false  position  towards  her. 

One  morning  a  letter  from  London  announced  that  Mr. 
Lind  had  taken  a  house  in  Westbourne  Terrace,  and 
intended  to  live  there  permanently  with  his  daughter. 
Elinor  had  not  come  down  to  breakfast  when  the  post 
came. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  McQuinch,  when  she  had  commu- 
nicated the  news :  "  I  knew  there  was  something  the  mat- 
ter when  I  saw  Reginald's  handwriting.  It  must  be  fully 
eighteen  months  since  I  heard  from  him  last.  I  am 
very  glad  he  has  settled  Marian  in  a  proper  home,  instead 
of  living  like  a  bachelor  and  leaving  her  to  wander  about 
from  one  house  to  another.  I  wish  we  could  have  af- 
forded to  ask  her  down  here  oftener." 

"  Here  is  a  note  from  Marian,  addressed  to  Nelly," 
said  Lydia,  who  had  been  examining  the  envelope. 

"  To  Nelly !  "  said  Mrs.  McQuinch,  vexed.  "  I  think 
she  should  have  invited  one  of  you  first." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  not  an  invitation,"  said  Jane. 

"  What  else  is  it  likely  to  be,  child  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Mc- 
Quinch. Then,  as  she  thought  how  much  pleasanter  her 

44 


The   Irrational   Knot 

home  would  be  without  Elinor,  she  added,  "After  all,  it 
will  do  Nelly  good  to  get  away  from  here.  She  needs 
change,  I  think.  I  wish  she  would  come  down.  It  is 
too  bad  of  her  to  be  always  late  like  this." 

Elinor  came  in  presently,  wearing  a  neglected  black 
gown;  her  face  pale;  her  eyes  surrounded  by  dark  cir- 
cles ;  her  black  hair  straggling  in  wisps  over  her  forehead. 
Her  sisters,  dressed  twinlike  in  white  muslin  and  gold 
lockets,  emphasized  her  by  contrast.  Being  blond  and 
gregarious,  they  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  pretty 
and  affectionate.  They  had  thriven  in  the  soil  that  had 
starved  Elinor. 

"  There's  a  letter  for  you  from  Marian,"  said  Mrs. 
McQuinch. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Elinor,  indifferently,  putting  the  note 
into  her  pocket.  She  liked  Marian's  letters,  and  kept 
them  to  read  in  her  hours  of  solitude. 

"  What  does  she  say  ?  "  said  Mrs.  McQuinch. 

"  I  have  not  looked,"  replied  Elinor. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  McQuinch,  plaintively,  "  I  wish  you 
would  look.  I  want  to  know  whether  she  says  anything 
about  this  letter  from  your  uncle  Reginald." 

Elinor  plucked  the  note  from  her  pocket,  tore  it  open, 
and  read  it.  Suddenly  she  set  her  face  to  hide  some 
emotion  from  her  family. 

"  Marian  wants  me  to  go  and  stay  with  her,"  she  said. 
"  They  have  taken  a  house." 

"  Poor  Marian !  "  said  Jane.     "And  will  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Elinor.     "  Have  you  any  objection?  " 

"  Oh  dear,  no,"  said  Jane,  smoothly. 

"  I  suppose  you  will  be  glad  to  get  away  from  your 
home,"  said  Mrs.  McQuinch,  incontinently. 

"  Very    glad,"    said    Elinor.     Mr.    McQuinch,    hurt, 

45 


The   Irrational   Knot 

looked  at  her  over  his  newspaper.  Mrs.  McQuinch  was 
huffed. 

"  I  dont  know  what  you  are  to  do  for  clothes,"  she 
said,  "  unless  Lydia  and  Jane  are  content  to  wear  their 
last  winter's  dresses  again  this  year." 

The  faces  of  the  young  ladies  elongated.  "  That's 
nonsense,  mamma,"  said  Lydia.  "  We  cant  wear  those 
brown  reps  again."  Women  wore  reps  in  those  days. 

"  You  need  not  be  alarmed,"  said  Elinor.  "  I  dont 
want  any  clothes.  I  can  go  as  I  am." 

"  You  dont  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  child," 
said  Mrs.  McQuinch. 

"A  nice  figure  you  would  make  in  uncle  Reginald's 
drawing-room  with  that  dress  on !  "  said  Lydia. 

"And  your  hair  in  that  state !  "  added  Jane. 

"  You  should  remember  that  there  are  others  to  be 
considered  besides  yourself,"  said  Lydia.  "  How  would 
you  like  your  guests  to  look  like  scarecrows  ?  " 

"  How  could  you  expect  Marian  to  go  about  with  you, 
or  into  the  Park?  I  suppose " 

"  Here,  here !  "  said  Mr.  McQuinch,  putting  down  his 
paper.  "  Let  us  have  no  more  of  this.  What  else  do 
you  need  in  the  Park  than  a  riding  habit?  You  have 
that  already.  Whatever  clothes  you  want  you  had  better 
get  in  London,  where  you  will  get  the  proper  things  for 
your  money." 

"  Indeed,  Hardy,  she  is  not  going  to  pay  a  London 
milliner  four  prices  for  things  she  can  get  quite  as 
good  down  here." 

"  I  tell  you  I  dont  want  anything,"  said  Elinor  impa- 
tiently. "  It  will  be  time  enough  to  begrudge  me  some 
decent  clothes  when  I  ask  for  them." 

46 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  I  dont  begrudge " 

Mrs.  McQuinch's  husband  interrupted  her.  "  Thats 
enough,  now,  everybody.  It's  settled  that  she  is  to 
go,  as  she  wants  to.  I  will  get  her  what  is  neces- 
sary. Give  me  another  egg,  and  talk  about  something 
else." 

Accordingly,  Elinor  went  to  live  at  Westbourne  Ter- 
race. Marian  had  spent  a  month  of  her  childhood  in 
Wiltshire,  and  had  made  of  Elinor  an  exacting  friend, 
always  ready  to  take  offence,  and  to  remain  jealous  and 
sulky  for  days  if  one  of  her  sisters,  or  any  other  little 
girl,  engaged  her  cousin's  attention  long.  On  the  other 
hand,  Elinor's  attachment  was  idolatrous  in  its  intensity ; 
and  as  Marian  was  sweet-tempered,  and  more  apt  to  fear 
that  she  had  disregarded  Elinor's  feelings  than  to  take 
offence  at  her  waywardness,  their  friendship  endured 
after  they  were  parted.  Their  promises  of  correspond- 
ence were  redeemed  by  Elinor  with  very  long  letters  at 
uncertain  intervals,  and  by  Marian  with  shorter  epistles 
notifying  all  her  important  movements.  Marian,  often 
called  upon  to  defend  her  cousin  from  the  charge  of  being 
a  little  shrew,  was  led  to  dwell  upon  her  better  qualities. 
Elinor  found  in  Marian  what  she  had  never  found  at  her 
own  home,  a  friend,  and  in  her  uncle's  house  a  refuge 
from  that  of  her  father,  which  she  hated.  She  had  been 
Marian's  companion  for  four  years  when  the  concert 
took  place  at  Wandsworth. 

Next  day  they  were  together  in  the  drawing-room  at 
Westbourne  Terrace:  Marian  writing,  Elinor  at  the  piano- 
forte, working  at  some  technical  studies,  to  which  she 
had  been  incited  by  the  shortcoming  of  her  performance 
on  the  previous  night.  She  stopped  on  hearing  a  bell 
ring. 

47 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  What  o'clock  is  it  ?  "  she  said,  after  listening  a  mo- 
ment. "  Surely  it  is  too  early  for  a  visit." 

"  It  is  only  half  past  two,"  replied  Marian.  "  I  hope 
it  is  not  anybody.  I  have  not  half  finished  my  corre- 
spondence." 

"  If  you  please,  Miss,"  said  a  maid,  entering,  "  Mr. 
Douglas  wants  to  see  you,  and  he  wont  come  up." 

"  I  suppose  he  expects  you  to  go  down  and  talk  to  him 
in  the  hall,"  said  Elinor. 

"  He  is  in  the  dining-room,  and  wishes  to  see  you  most 
particular,"  said  the  maid. 

"  Tell  him  I  will  come  down,"  said  Marian. 

"  He  heard  me  practising,"  said  Elinor,  "  that  is  why 
he  would  not  come  up.  I  am  in  disgrace,  I  suppose." 

"  Nonsense,  Nelly !  But  indeed  I  have  no  doubt  he 
has  come  to  complain  of  our  conduct,  since  he  insists  on 
seeing  me  alone." 

Miss  McQuinch  looked  sceptically  at  Marian's  guileless 
eyes,  but  resumed  her  technical  studies  without  saying 
anything.  Marian  went  to  the  dining-room,  where  she 
found  Douglas  standing  near  the  window,  tall  and  hand- 
some, frock  coated  and  groomed  to  a  spotless  glossiness 
that  established  a  sort  of  relationship  between  him  and 
the  sideboard,  the  condition  of  which  did  credit  to  Ma- 
rian's influence  over  her  housemaids.  He  looked  intently 
at  her  as  she  bade  him  good  morning. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  rather  early,"  he  said,  half  stiffly, 
half  apologetically. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Marian. 

"  I  have  come  to  say  something  which  I  do  not  care  to 
keep  unsaid  longer  than  I  can  help;  so  I  thought  it 
better  to  come  when  I  could  hope  to  find  you  alone.  I 


The  Irrational  Knot 

hope  I  have  not  disturbed  you.  I  have  something  rather 
important  to  say." 

"  You  are  the  same  as  one  of  ourselves,  of  course, 
Sholto.  But  I  believe  you  delight  in  stiffness  and  cere- 
mony. Will  you  not  come  upstairs  ?  " 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  privately.  First,  I  have  to 
apologize  to  you  for  what  passed  last  night." 

"  Pray  dont,  Sholto :  it  doesnt  matter.  I  am  afraid  we 
were  rude  to  you." 

"  Pardon  me.  It  is  I  who  am  in  fault.  I  never  before 
made  an  apology  to  any  human  being ;  and  I  should  not 
do  so  now  without  a  painful  conviction  that  I  forgot  what 
I  owed  to  myself." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself — I  mean 
for  never  having  apologized  before.  I  am  quite  sure  you 
have  not  got  through  life  without  having  done  at  least 
one  or  two  things  that  required  an  apology." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  hold  that  opinion  of  me." 

"  How  is  Brutus's  paw  ?  " 

"Brutus!" 

"  Yes.  That  abrupt  way  of  changing  the  subject  is 
what  Mrs.  Fairfax  calls  a  display  of  tact.  I  know  it  is 
very  annoying;  so  you  may  talk  about  anything  you 
please.  But  I  really  want  to  hear  how  the  poor  dog  is." 

"  His  paw  is  nearly  healed." 

"  I'm  so  glad — poor  old  dear !  " 

"  You  are  aware  that  I  did  not  come  here  to  speak  of 
my  mother's  dog,  Marian  ?  " 

"  I  supposed  not,"  said  Marian,  with  a  smile.  "  But 
now  that  you  have  made  your  apology,  wont  you  come 
upstairs?  Nelly  is  there." 

"  I  have  something  else  to  say — to  you  alone,  Marian. 
I  entreat  you  to  listen  to  it  seriously."  Marian  looked  as 

49 


The   Irrational   Knot 

grave  as  she  could.  "  I  confess  that  in  some  respects  I 
do  not  understand  you ;  and  before  you  enter  upon  an- 
other London  season,  through  which  I  cannot  be  at  your 
side,  I  would  obtain  from  you  some  assurance  of  the 
nature  of  your  regard  for  me.  I  do  not  wish  to  harass 
you  with  jealous  importunity.  You  have  given  me  the 
most  unequivocal  tokens  of  a  feeling  different  from  that 
which  inspires  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  a  lady  and 
gentleman  in  society;  but  of  late  it  has  seemed  to  me 
that  you  maintain  as  little  reserve  toward  other  men 
as  toward  me.  I  am  not  thinking  of  Marmaduke :  he  is 
your  cousin.  But  I  observed  that  even  the  working  man 
who  sang  at  the  concert  last  night  was  received — I  do  not 
say  intentionally — with  a  cordiality  which  might  have 
tempted  a  more  humbly  disposed  person  than  he  seemed 

to  be  to  forget "  Here  Douglas,  seeing  Marian's 

bearing  change  suddenly,  hesitated.  Her  beautiful  gray 
eyes,  always  pleading  for  peace  like  those  of  a  good  angel, 
were  now  full  of  reproach ;  and  her  mouth,  but  for  those 
eyes,  would  have  suggested  that  she  was  at  heart  an 
obstinate  woman. 

"  Sholto,"  she  said,  "  I  dont  know  what  to  say  to  you. 
If  this  is  jealousy,  it  may  be  very  flattering;  but  it  is 
ridiculous.  If  it  is  a  lecture,  seriously  intended,  it  is — 
it  is  really  most  insulting.  What  do  you  mean  by  my 
having  given  you  unequivocal  signs  of  regard?  Of 
course  I  think  of  you  very  differently  from  the  chance 
acquaintances  I  make  in  society.  It  would  be  strange 
if  I  did  not,  having  known  you  so  long  and  been  your 
mother's  guest  so  often.  But  you  talk  almost  as  if  I  had 
been  making  love  to  you." 

"  No,"  said  Douglas,  forgetting  his  ceremonious  man- 


The   Irrational   Knot 

ner  and  speaking  angrily  and  naturally ;  "  but  you  talk 
as  though  /  had  not  been  making  love  to  you." 

"  If  you  have,  I  never  knew  it.     I  never  dreamt  it." 

"  Then,  since  you  are  not  the  stupidest  lady  of  my 
acquaintance,  you  must  be  the  most  innocent." 

"  Tell  me  of  one  single  occasion  on  which  anything 
has  passed  between  us  that  justifies  your  speaking  to  me 
as  you  are  doing  now." 

"  Innumerable  occasions.  But  since  I  cannot  compel 
you  to  acknowledge  them,  it  would  be  useless  to  cite 
them." 

"All  I  can  say  is  that  we  have  utterly  misunderstood 
one  another,"  she  said,  after  a  pause. 

He  said  nothing,  but  took  up  his  hat,  and  looked  down 
at  it  with  angry  determination.  Marian,  too  uneasy  to 
endure  silence,  added : 

"  But  I  shall  know  better  in  future." 

"  True,"  said  Douglas,  hastily  putting  down  his  hat 
and  advancing  a  step.  "  You  cannot  plead  misunder- 
standing now.  Can  you  give  me  the  assurance  I  seek  ?  " 

"  What  assurance  ?  " 

Douglas  shook  his  shoulders  impatiently. 

"  You  expect  me  to  know  everything  by  intuition," 
she  said. 

"  Well,  my  declaration  shall  be  definite  enough,  even 
for  you.  Do  you  love  me  ?  " 

"  No,  I  dont  think  I  do.  In  fact,  I  am  quite  sure  I  do 
not — in  the  way  you  mean.  I  wish  you  would  not  talk 
like  this,  Sholto.  We  have  all  got  on  so  pleasantly  to- 
gether: you,  and  I,  and  Nelly,  and  Marmaduke,  and  my 
father.  And  now  you  begin  making  love,  and  stuff  of 
that  kind.  Pray  let  us  agree  to  forget  all  about  it,  and 
remain  friends  as  before." 

51 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  You  need  not  be  anxious  about  our  future  relations : 
I  shall  not  embarrass  you  with  my  society  again.  I 
hoped  to  find  you  a  woman  capable  of  appreciating  a 
man's  passion,  even  if  you  should  be  unable  to  respond 
to  it.  But  I  perceive  that  you  are  only  a  girl,  not  yet 
aware  of  the  deeper  life  that  underlies  the  ice  of  con- 
ventionality." 

"  That  is  a  very  good  metaphor  for  your  own  case," 
said  Marian,  interrupting  him.  "  Your  ordinary  man- 
ner is  all  ice,  hard  and  chilling.  One  may  suspect  that 
there  are  depths  beneath,  but  that  is  only  an  additional 
inducement  to  keep  on  the  surface." 

"  Then  even  your  amiability  is  a  delusion !  Or  is  it 
that  you  are  amiable  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  reserve 
taunts  of  coldness  and  treachery  for  me  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  angelic  again.  "  You  have  taken 
me  up  wrongly.  I  did  not  mean  to  taunt  you." 

"  You  conceal  your  meaning  as  skilfully  as — according 
to  you — I  have  concealed  mine.  Good-morning." 

"Are  you  going  already  ?  " 

"  Do  you  care  one  bit  for  me,  Marian?  " 

"  I  do  indeed.  Believe  me,  you  are  one  of  my  special 
friends." 

"  I  do  not  want 'to  be  one  of  your  friends.  Will  you 
be  my  wife  ?  " 

"Sholto!" 

"Will  you  be  my  wife?" 

"No.   'l " 

"  Pardon  me.  That  is  quite  sufficient.  Good-morn- 
ing." 

The  moment  he  interrupted  her,  a  change  in  her  face 
shewed  she  had  a  temper.  She  did  not  move  a  muscle 
until  she  heard  the  house  door  close  behind  him.  Then 


The  Irrational  Knot 

she  ran  upstairs  to  the  drawing-room,  where  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch  was  still  practising. 

"  Oh,  Nelly,"  she  cried,  throwing  herself  into  an  easy 
chair,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  "  Oh ! 
Oh !  Oh !  Oh !  Oh !  "  She  opened  her  fingers  and  looked 
whimsically  at  her  cousin,  who,  despising  this  stage  busi- 
ness, said,  impatiently : 

"Well?" 

"  Do  you  know  what  Sholto  came  for  ?  " 

"  To  propose  to  you." 

"  Stop,  Nelly.  You  do  not  know  what  horrible  things 
one  may  say  in  jest.  He  has  proposed." 

"  When  will  the  wedding  be?  " 

"  Dont  joke  about  it,  please.  I  scarcely  know  how  I 
have  behaved,  or  what  the  meaning  of  the  whole  scene 
is,  yet.  Listen.  Did  you  ever  suspect  that  he  was — 
what  shall  I  say? — courting  me?" 

"  I  saw  that  he  was  trying  to  be  tender  in  his  own 
conceited  way.  I  fully  expected  he  would  propose  some 
day,  if  he  could  once  reconcile  himself  to  a  wife  who 
was  not  afraid  of  him." 

"And  you  never  told  me." 

"  I  thought  you  saw  it  for  yourself ;  particularly  as 
you  encouraged  him." 

"  There !  The  very  thing  he  has  been  accusing  me  of ! 
He  said  I  had  given  him  unequivocal  tokens — yes,  une- 
quivocal tokens — that  I  was  madly  in  love  with  him." 

"  What  did  you  say  ? — if  I  may  ask." 

"  I  tried  to  explain  things  to  him ;  but  he  persisted  in 
asking  me  would  I  be  his  wife;  and  when  I  refused  he 
would  not  listen  to  anything  else,  and  went  off  in  a  rage." 

"Yes,  I  can  imagine  Sholto's  feelings  on  discovering 

53 


The   Irrational   Knot 

that  he  had  humbled  himself  in  vain.  Why  did  you  re- 
fuse him?" 

"  Why !  Fancy  being  Sholto's  wife !  I  would  as  soon 
think  of  marrying  Marmaduke.  But  I  cannot  forget 
what  he  said  about  my  flirting  with  him.  Nelly:  will 
you  promise  to  tell  me  whenever  you  think  I  am  be- 
having in  a  way  that  might  lead  anybody  on  to — like 
Sholto,  you  know  ?  " 

"  Nonsense !  If  men  choose  to  make  fools  of  them- 
selves, you  cannot  prevent  them.  Hush !  I  hear  someone 
coming  upstairs.  It  is  Marmaduke,  I  think." 

"  Marmaduke  would  never  come  up  so  slowly.  He 
generally  comes  up  three  steps  at  a  time." 

"  Sulky  after  last  night,  no  doubt.  I  suppose  he  wont 
speak  to  me." 

Marmaduke  entered  listlessly.  "  Good  morning,  Ma- 
rian," he  said,  sitting  down  on  an  uncomfortable  chair. 
"  Good  morrow,  Nell." 

Elinor,  surprised  at  the  courtesy,  looked  up  and  saluted 
him  snappishly. 

"  Is  there  anything  the  matter,  Duke  ? "  said  Marian. 
"Are  you  ill?" 

"  No,  I'm  all  right.     Rather  busy :  thats  all." 

"  Busy !  "  said  Elinor.  "  There  must  be  something 
even  more  unusual  than  that,  when  you  are  too  low 
spirited  to  keep  up  a  quarrel  with  me.  Why  dont  you 
sit  on  the  easy  chair,  or  sprawl  on  the  ottoman,  after 
your  manner  ?  " 

"  Anything  for  a  quiet  life,"  he  replied,  moving  to  the 
ottoman. 

"  You  must  be  hungry,"  said  Marian,  puzzled  by  his 
obedience.  "  Let  me  get  you  something." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Marmaduke.     "  I  couldnt  eat. 

54 


The  Irrational  Knot 

Just  had  lunch.  Ive  come  to  pack  up  a  few  things  of 
mine  that  you  have  here." 

"  We  have  your  banjo." 

"  Oh,  I  dont  want  that.  You  may  keep  it,  or  put  it  in 
the  fire,  for  all  I  care.  I  want  some  clothes  I  left  behind 
me  when  we  had  the  theatricals." 

"Are  you  leaving  London  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  am  getting  tired  of  loafing  about  here.  I 
think  I  ought  to  go  home  for  a  while.  My  mother  wants 
me  to." 

Miss  McQuinch,  by  a  subdued  but  expressive  snort, 
conveyed  the  most  entire  scepticism  as  to  his  solicitude 
about  his  mother.  She  then  turned  to  the  piano  calmly, 
observing,  "  You  have  probably  eaten  something  that  dis- 
agrees with  you." 

"  What  a  shame !  "  said  Marian.  "  Come,  Duke :  I 
have  plenty  of  good  news  for  you.  Nelly  and  I  are 
invited  to  Carbury  Park  for  the  autumn;  and  there  will 
be  no  visitors  but  us  three.  We  shall  have  the  whole 
place  to  ourselves." 

"  Time  enough  to  think  of  the  autumn  yet  awhile," 
said  Marmaduke,  gloomily. 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  "  here  is  some  better 
news  for  you.  Constance — Lady  Constance — will  be  in 
town  next  week." 

Marmaduke  muttered  something. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  ?  "  said  Elinor,  quickly. 

"  I  didnt  say  anything." 

"  I  may  be  wrong ;  but  I  thought  I  heard  you  say 
'  Hang  Lady  Constance !  V 

"  Oh,  Marmaduke !  "  cried  Marian,  affectedly.  "  How 
dare  you  speak  so  of  your  betrothed,  sir  ?  " 

55 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Who  says  she  is  my  betrothed  ?  "  he  said,  turning 
on  her  angrily. 

"  Why,  everybody.     Even  Constance  admits  it." 

"  She  ought  to  have  the  manners  to  wait  until  I  ask 
her,"  he  said,  subsiding.  "  I'm  not  betrothed  to  her ; 
and  I  dont  intend  to  become  so  in  a  hurry,  if  I  can  help 
it.  But  you  neednt  tell  your  father  I  said  so.  It  might 
get  round  to  my  governor;  and  then  there  would  be  a 
row." 

"  You  must  marry  her  some  day,  you  know,"  said 
Elinor,  maliciously. 

"  Must  I  ?  I  shant  marry  at  all.  I've  had  enough  of 
women." 

"  Indeed  ?  Perhaps  they  have  had  enough  of  you." 
Marmaduke  reddened.  "  You  seem  to  have  exhausted 
the  joys  of  this  world  since  the  concert  last  night.  Are 
you  jealous  of  Mr.  Conolly's  success?" 

"  Your  by-play  when  you  found  how  early  it  was  at 
the  end  of  the  concert  was  not  lost  on  us,"  said  Marian 
demurely.  "  You  were  going  somewhere,  were  you  not  ?" 

"  Since  you  are  so  jolly  curious,"  said  Marmaduke, 
unreasonably  annoyed,  "  I  went  to  the  theatre  with  Con- 
oily;  and  my  by-play,  as  you  call  it,  simply  meant  my 
delight  at  finding  that  we  could  get  rid  of  you  in  time 
to  enjoy  the  evening." 

"With  Conolly!"  said  Marian,  interested.  "What 
kind  of  man  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  nothing  particular.    You  saw  him  yourself." 

"  Yes.     But  is  he  well  educated,  and — and  so  forth  ?  " 

"  Dont  know,  I'm  sure.  We  didnt  talk  about  mathe- 
matics and  classics." 

"Well;  but— do  you  like  him?" 

"  I  tell  you  I  dont  care  a  damn  about  him  one  way  or 

56 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  other,"  said  Marmaduke,  rising  and  walking  away  to 
the  window.  His  cousins,  astonished,  exchanged  looks. 

"  Very  well,  Marmaduke,"  said  Marian  softly,  after  a 
pause :  "  I  wont  tease  you  any  more.  Dont  be  angry." 

"  You  havnt  teased  me,"  said  he,  coming  back  some- 
what shamefacedly  from  the  window.  "  I  feel  savage 
to-day,  though  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  be 
as  jolly  as  a  shrimp.  Perhaps  Nelly  will  play  some 
Chopin,  just  to  soothe  me.  I  should  like  to  hear  that 
polonaise  again." 

"  I  should  enjoy  nothing  better  than  taking  you  at  your 
word,"  said  Elinor.  "But  I  heard  Mr.  Lind  come  in, 
a  moment  ago;  and  he  is  not  so  fond  of  Chopin  as  you 
and  I." 

Mr.  Lind  entered  whilst  she  was  speaking.  He  was 
a  dignified  gentleman,  with  delicately  chiselled  features 
and  portly  figure.  His  silky  light  brown  hair  curled 
naturally  about  his  brow  and  set  it  off  imposingly.  His 
hands  were  white  and  small,  with  tapering  fingers,  and 
small  thumbs. 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir  ?  "  said  Marmaduke,  blushing. 

"  Thank  you :  I  am  better  than  I  have  been." 

Marmaduke  murmured  congratulations,  and  looked  at 
his  watch  as  if  pressed  for  time.  "  I  must  be  off  now," 
he  said,  rising.  "  I  was  just  going  when  you  came  in." 

"  So  soon!  Well,  I  must  not  detain  you,  Marmaduke. 
I  heard  from  your  father  this  morning.  He  is  very 
anxious  to  see  you  settled  in  life." 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  shake  down  some  day,  sir." 

"  You  have  very  good  opportunities — very  exceptional 
opportunities.  Has  Marian  told  you  that  Constance  is 
expected  to  arrive  in  town  next  week  ?  " 

"  Yes :  we  told  him,"  said  Marian. 

57 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  He  thought  it  too  good  to  be  true,  and  would  hardly 
believe  us,"  added  Elinor. 

Mr.  Lind  smiled  at  his  nephew,  happily  forgetful, 
worldly  wise  as  he  was,  of  the  inevitable  conspiracy  of 
youth  against  age.  They  smiled  too,  except  Marmaduke, 
who,  being  under  observation,  kept  his  countenance  like 
the  Man  in  the  Iron  Mask.  "  It  is  quite  true,  my  boy," 
said  the  uncle,  kindly.  "  But  before  she  arrives,  I  should 
like  to  have  a  talk  with  you.  When  can  you  come  to 
breakfast  with  me  ?  " 

"Any  day  you  choose  to  name,  sir.  I  shall  be  very 
glad." 

"  Let  us  say  to-morrow  morning.  Will  that  be  too 
soon?" 

"  Not  at  all.  It  will  suit  me  quite  well.  Good  eve- 
ning, sir." 

"  Good  evening  to  you." 

When  Marmaduke  was  in  the  street,  he  stood  for  a 
while  considering  which  way  to  go.  Before  the  arrival 
of  his  uncle,  he  had  intended  to  spend  the  afternoon  with 
his  cousins.  He  was  now  at  a  loss  for  a  means  of  killing 
time.  On  one  point  he  was  determined.  There  was  a 
rehearsal  that  day  at  the  Bijou  Theatre;  and  thither,  at 
least,  he  would  not  go.  He  drove  to  Charing  Cross,  and 
drifted  back  to  Leicester  Square.  He  turned  away  from 
the  theatre,  and  wandered  down  Piccadilly.  Then  he 
thought  he  would  return  as  far  as  the  Criterion,  and 
drink.  Finally  he  arrived  at  the  stage  door  of  the  Bijou 
Theatre,  and  inquired  whether  the  rehearsal  was  over. 

"  Theyve  bin  at  it  since  eleven  this  mornin,  and  will 
be  pretty  nigh  til  the  stage  is  wanted  for  to-night,"  said 
the  janitor.  "  I'd  as  lief  youd  wait  here  as  go  up,  if 

58 


The  Irrational  Knot 

you  dont  mind,  sir.  The  guvnor  is  above;  and  he  aint 
in  the  best  o'  tempers.  I'll  send  word  up." 

Marmaduke  looked  round  irresolutely.  A  great  noise 
of  tramping  and  singing  began. 

"  Thats  the  new  procession,"  continued  the  door- 
keeper. "  Sixteen  hextras  took  on  for  it.  It's  Miss 
Virtue's  chance  for  lunch,  sir:  you  wont  have  long  to 
wait  now." 

Here  there  was  a  rapid  pattering  of  feet  down  the 
staircase.  Marmaduke  started,  and  stood  biting  his  lips 
as  Mademoiselle  Lalage,  busy,  hungry,  and  in  haste, 
hurried  towards  the  door. 

"  Come !  Come  on,"  she  said  impatiently  to  him,  as 
she  went  out.  "  Go  and  get  a  cab,  will  you.  I  must  have 
something  to  eat ;  and  I  have  to  get  back  sharp.  Do  be 

qu there  goes  a  hansom.  Hi !  "  She  whistled  shrilly, 

and  waved  her  umbrella.  The  cab  came,  and  was  direct- 
ed by  Marmaduke  to  a  restaurant  in  Regent  Street. 

"  I  am  absolutely  starving,"  she  said  as  they  drove  off. 
"  I  have  been  in  since  eleven  this  morning ;  and  of  course 
they  only  called  the  band  for  half-past.  They  are  such 
damned  fools:  they  drive  me  mad." 

"  Why  dont  you  walk  out  of  the  theatre,  and  make 
them  arrange  it  properly  for  next  day  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes !  And  throw  the  whole  day  after  the  half, 
and  lose  my  rehearsal.  It  is  bad  enough  to  lose  my 
temper.  I  swore,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  did." 

"  This  horse  thinks  he's  at  a  funeral.  What  o'clock 
is  it?" 

"  It's  only  eight  minutes  past  four.  There  is  plenty 
of  time." 

When  they  alighted,  Lalage  hurried  into  the  restau- 

59 


The   Irrational   Knot 

rant ;  scrutinized  the  tables ;  and  selected  the  best  lighted 
one.  The  waiter,  a  decorous  elderly  man,  approached 
with  some  severity  of  manner,  and  handed  a  bill  of  fare 
to  Marmaduke.  She  snatched  it  from  him,  and  ad- 
dressed the  waiter  sharply. 

"  Bring  me  some  thin  soup ;  and  get  me  a  steak  to 
follow.  Let  it  be  a  thick  juicy  one.  If  its  purple  and 
raw  I  wont  have  it;  and  if  its  done  to  a  cinder,  I  wont 
have  it:  it  must  be  red.  And  get  me  some  spring  cab- 
bage and  potatoes,  and  a  pint  of  dry  champagne — the 
decentest  you  have.  And  be  quick." 

"And  what  for  you,  sir  ?  "  said  the  waiter,  turning  to 
Marmaduke. 

"  Never  mind  him,"  interrupted  Susanna.  "  Go  and 
attend  to  me." 

The  waiter  bowed  and  retired. 

"  Old  stick-in-the-mud !  "  muttered  Miss  Lalage.  "  Is 
it  half-past  four  yet  ?  " 

"  No.     It's  only  quarter  past.     There's  lots  of  time." 

Mademoiselle  Lalage  ate  until  the  soup,  a  good  deal 
of  bread,  the  steak,  the  vegetables,  and  the  pint  of  cham- 
pagne— less  a  glassful  taken  by  her  companion — had 
disappeared.  Marmaduke  watched  her  meanwhile,  and 
consumed  two  ices. 

"  Have  an  ice  to  finish  up  with  ?  "  he  said. 

"  No.  I  cant  work  on  sweets,"  she  replied.  "  But  I 
am  beginning  to  feel  alive  again  and  comfortable.  Whats 
the  time?" 

"  Confound  the  time !  "  said  Marmaduke.  "  It's  twenty 
minutes  to  five." 

"  Well,  I'll  drive  back  to  the  theatre.  I  neednt  start 
for  quarter  of  an  hour  yet." 

60 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Thank  heaven !  "  said  Marmaduke.  "  I  was  afraid 
I  should  not  be  able  to  get  a  word  with  you." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  a  crow  I  have  to  pluck  with  you, 
Mr.  Marmaduke  Lind.  What  did  you  mean  by  telling 
me  your  name  was  Sharp  ?  " 

"  It's  the  name  of  a  cousin  of  mine,"  said  Marmaduke, 
attempting  to  dismiss  the  subject  with  a  laugh. 

"  It  may  be  your  cousin's  name ;  but  it's  not  yours. 
By  the  bye,  is  that  the  cousin  youre  engaged  to  ?  " 

"What  cousin?     I'm  not  engaged  to  anybody." 

"  That's  a  lie,  like  your  denial  of  your  name.  Come, 
come,  Master  Marmaduke :  you  cant  humbug  me.  Youre 
too  young.  Hallo !  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

It  was  the  waiter,  removing  some  plates,  and  placing 
a  bill  on  the  table.  Marmaduke  put  his  hand  into  his 
pocket. 

"  Just  wait  a  minute,  please,"  said  Susanna.  The 
waiter  retired. 

"  Now  then,"  she  resumed,  placing  her  elbows  on  the 
table,  "  let  us  have  no  more  nonsense.  What  is  your 
little  game  ?  Are  you  going  to  pay  that  bill  or  am  I  ?  " 

"  I  am,  of  course." 

"  There  is  no  of  course  in  it — not  yet,  anyhow.  What 
are  you  hanging  about  the  theatre  after  me  for?  Tell 
me  that.  Dont  stop  to  think." 

Marmaduke  looked  foolish,  and  then  sulky.  Finally 
he  brightened,  and  said,  "  Look  here.  Youre  angry  with 
me  for  bringing  your  brother  last  night.  But  upon  my 
soul  I  had  no  idea " 

"  That's  not  what  I  mean  at  all.  You  are  dodging  a 
plain  question.  When  you  came  to  the  theatre,  I  thought 
you  were  a  nice  fellow;  and  I  made  friends  with  you. 
Now  I  find  you  have  been  telling  me  lies  about  yourself, 

61 


The  Irrational   Knot 

and  trying  to  play  fast  and  loose.  You  must  either  give 
that  up  or  give  me  up.  I  wont  have  you  pass  that  stage 
door  again  if  you  only  want  to  amuse  yourself  like  other 
lounging  cads  about  town." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  playing  fast  and  loose,  and 
being  a  cad  about  town  ? "  said  Marmaduke  angrily. 
"  I  hope  youre  not  going  to  make  a  row  here  in  public." 

"  No ;  but  I  have  you  where  you  cant  make  a  row ;  and 
I  intend  to  have  it  out  with  you  once  and  for  all.  If  you 
quarrel  now,  so  help  me  Heaven  I'll  never  speak  to  you 
again !  " 

"  It  is  you  who  are  quarrelling." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Susanna,  opening  her  purse  as 
though  the  matter  were  decided.  "  Waiter." 

"  I  am  going  to  pay." 

"  So  you  can — for  what  you  had  yourself.  I  dont 
take  dinners  from  strange  men,  nor  pay  for  their  ices." 

Marmaduke  did  not  reply.  He  took  out  his  purse  de- 
terminedly ;  glanced  angrily  at  her ;  and  muttered,  "  I 
ne'ver  thought  you  were  that  sort  of  woman." 

"  What  sort  of  woman  ?  "  demanded  Susanna,  in  a  tone 
that  made  the  other  occupants  of  the  room  turn  and  stare. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Marmaduke.  She  was  about  to 
retort,  when  she  saw  him  looking  into  his  purse  with  an 
expression  of  dismay.  The  waiter  came.  Susanna,  in- 
stead of  attempting  to  be  beforehand  in  proffering  the 
money,  changed  her  mind,  and  waited.  Marmaduke 
searched  his  pockets.  Finding  nothing,  he  muttered  an 
imprecation,  and,  fingering  his  watch  chain,  glanced 
doubtfully  at  the  waiter,  who  looked  stolidly  at  the 
tablecloth. 

"  There,"  said  Susanna,  putting  down  a  sovereign. 

Marmaduke   looked   on   helplessly  whilst  the   waiter 

62 


The   Irrational   Knot 

changed  the  coin  and  thanked  Susanna  for  her  gratuity. 
Then  he  said,  "  You  must  let  me  settle  with  you  for  this 
to-night.  Ive  left  nearly  all  my  cash  in  the  pocket  of 
another  waistcoat." 

"  You  will  not  have  the  chance  of  settling  with  me, 
either  to-night  or  any  other  night.  I  am  done  with  you." 
And  she  rose  and  left  the  restaurant.  Marmaduke  sat 
doggedly  for  quarter  of  a  minute.  Then  he  went  out, 
and  ran  along  Regent  Street,  anxiously  looking  from  face 
to  face  in  search  of  her.  At  last  he  saw  her  walking  at 
a  great  pace  a  little  distance  ahead  of  him.  He  made  a 
dash  and  overtook  her. 

"  Look  here,  Lalage,"  he  said,  keeping  up  with  her  as 
she  walked :  "  this  is  all  rot.  I  didnt  mean  to  offend  you. 
I  dont  know  what  you  mean,  or  what  you  want  me  to  do. 
Dont  be  so  unreasonable." 

No  answer. 

"  I  can  stand  a  good  deal  from  you ;  but  it's  too  much 
to  be  kept  at  your  heels  as  if  I  were  a  beggar  or  a 
troublesome  dog.  Lalage."  She  took  no  notice  of  him ; 
and  he  stopped,  trying  to  compose  his  features,  which 
were  distorted  by  rage.  She  walked  on,  turning  into 
Glasshouse  Street.  When  she  had  gone  twenty  yards, 
she  heard  him  striding  behind  her. 

"  If  you  wont  stop  and  talk  to  me,"  he  said,  "  I'll  make 
you.  If  anybody  interferes  with  me  I'll  smash  him  into 
jelly.  It  would  serve  you  right  if  I  did  the  same  to 
you." 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  arm ;  and  she  instantly  turned 
and  struck  him  across  the  face,  knocking  off  his  hat. 
He,  who  a  moment  before  had  been  excited,  red,  and 
almost  in  tears,  was  appalled.  There  was  a  crowd  in  a 
moment;  and  a  cabman  drew  up  close  to  the  kerb  with 

63 


The   Irrational   Knot 

a  calm  conviction  that  his  hansom  would  be  wanted 
presently. 

"  How  dare  you  put  your  hand  on  me,  you  coward?  " 
she  exclaimed,  with  remarkable  crispness  of  utterance 
and  energy  of  style.  "  Who  are  you  ?  I  dont  know  you. 
Where  are  the  police  ?  "  She  paused  for  a  reply ;  and 
a  bracelet,  broken  by  the  blow  she  had  given  him,  dropped 
on  the  pavement,  and  was  officiously  picked  up  and 
handed  to  her  by  a  battered  old  woman  who  shewed  in 
every  wrinkle  her  burning  sympathy  with  Woman  turn- 
ing at  bay  against  Man.  Susanna  looked  at  the  broken 
bracelet,  and  tears  of  vexation  sprang  to  her  eyes. 
"  Look  at  what  you've  done !  "  she  cried,  holding  out 
the  bracelet  in  her  left  hand  and  shewing  a  scrape  which 
had  drawn  blood  on  her  right  wrist.  "  For  two  pins  I'd 
knock  your  head  off !  " 

Marmaduke,  quite  out  of  countenance,  and  yet  sullenly 
very  angry,  vacillated  for  a  moment  between  his  con- 
flicting impulses  to  knock  her  down  and  to  fly  to  the 
utmost  ends  of  the  earth.  If  he  had  been  ten  years  older 
he  would  probably  have  knocked  her  down:  as  it  was, 
he  signed  to  the  cabman,  who  gathered  up  the  .reins  and 
held  them  clear  of  his  fare's  damaged  hat  with  the  grati- 
fication of  a  man  whose  judgment  in  a  delicate  matter 
had  just  been  signally  confirmed  by  events. 

As  they  started,  Susanna  made  a  dash  at  the  cab,  which 
was  pulled  up,  amid  a  shout  from  the  crowd,  just  in  time 
to  prevent  an  accident.  Then,  holding  on  to  the  rail  and 
standing  on  the  step,  she  addressed  herself  to  the  cabman, 
and,  sacrificing  all  propriety  of  language  to  intensity  of 
vituperation,  demanded  whether  he  wanted  to  run  his 
cab  over  her  body  and  kill  her.  He,  with  undisturbed 
foresight,  answered  not  a  word,  but  again  shifted  the  reins 

64 


The   Irrational   Knot 

so  as  to  make  way  for  her  bonnet.  Acknowledging  the 
attention  with  one  more  epithet,  she  seated  herself  in 
the  cab,  from  which  Marmaduke  at  once  indignantly  rose 
to  escape.  But  the  hardiest  Grasmere  wrestler,  stooping 
under  the  hood  of  a  hansom,  could  not  resist  a  vigorous 
pull  at  his  coat  tails ;  and  Marmaduke  was  presently  back 
in  his  seat  again,  with  Susanna  clinging  to  him  and  half 
sobbing : 

"Oh,  Bob,  youve  killed  me.  How  could  you?" 
Then,  with  a  suspiciously  sudden  recovery  of  energy, 
she  screamed  "  Bijou  Theatre.  Drive  on,  will  you  "  up 
at  the  cabman,  who  was  looking  down  through  the  trap- 
door. The  horse  plunged  forward,  and,  with  the  jolt, 
she  was  fawning  on  Marmaduke's  arm  again,  saying, 
"  Dont  be  brutal  to  me  any  more,  Bob.  I  cant  bear  it. 
I  have  enough  trouble  without  your  turning  on  me." 

He  was  young  and  green,  and  too  much  confused  by 
this  time  to  feel  sure  that  he  had  not  been  the  aggressor. 
But  he  did,  on  the  whole,  the  wisest  thing — folded  his 
arms  and  sat  silent,  with  his  cheeks  burning. 

"  Say  something  to  me,"  she  said,  shaking  his  arm. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  he  replied.  "  I  shall  leave 
town  for  home  to-night.  I  cant  shew  my  face  again 
after  this." 

"  Home,"  she  said,  in  her  former  contemptuous  tone, 
flinging  his  arm  away.  "  That  means  your  cousin  Con- 
stance." 

"Who  told  you  about  her?" 

"  Never  mind.     You  are  engaged  to  her." 

"You  lie!" 

Susanna  was  shaken.  She  looked  hard  at  him,  won- 
dering whether  he  was  deceiving  her  or  not.  "  Look  me 
in  the  face,  Bob,"  she  said.  If  he  had  complied,  she 

65 


The   Irrational   Knot 

would  not  have  believed  him.  But  he  treated  the  chal- 
lenge with  supreme  disdain  and  stared  straight  ahead, 
obeying  his  male  instinct,  which  taught  him  that  the 
woman,  with  all  the  advantages  on  her  side,  would 
nevertheless  let  him  win  if  he  held  on.  At  last  she 
came  caressingly  to  his  shoulder  again,  and  said: 

"  Why  didnt  you  tell  me  about  her  yourself  ?  " 

"  Damn  it  all,"  he  exclaimed,  violently,  "  there  is  noth- 
ing to  tell !  I  am  not  engaged  to  her :  on  my  oath  I  am 
not.  My  people  at  home  talk  about  a  match  between  us 
as  if  it  were  a  settled  thing,  though  they  know  I  dont  care 
for  her.  But  if  you  want  to  have  the  truth,  I  cant  afford 
to  say  that  I  wont  marry  her,  because  I  am  too  hard  up 
to  quarrel  with  the  governor,  who  has  set  his  heart  on  it. 
You  see,  the  way  I  am  circumstanced " 

"  Oh,  bother  ypur  circumstances !  Look  here,  Bob, 
I  dont  want  you  to  introduce  me  to  your  swell  relations ; 
it  is  not  worth  my  while  to  waste  time  on  people  who 
cant  earn  their  own  living.  And  never  mind  your  gov- 
ernor: we  can  get  on  without  him.  If  you  are  hard  up 
for  money,  and  he  is  stingy,  you  had  better  get  it  from 
me  than  from  the  Jews." 

"  I  couldnt  do  that,"  said  Marmaduke,  touched.  "  In 
fact,  I  am  well  enough  off.  By  the  bye,  I  must  not  for- 
get to  pay  you  for  that  lunch.  But  if  I  ever  am  hard  up, 
I  will  come  to  you.  Will  that  do  ?  " 

"  Of  course :  that  is  what  I  meant.  Confound  it,  here 
we  are  already.  You  mustnt  come  in,  you  would  only  be 
in  the  way.  Come  to-night  after  the  burlesque,  if  you 
like.  Youre  not  angry  with  me,  are'you  ?  " 

Her  breast  touched  his  arm  just  then;  and  as  if  she 
had  released  some  spring,  all  his  love  for  her  suddenly 
surged  up  within  him  and  got  the  better  of  him.  "  Wait 

66 


The   Irrational   Knot 

— listen,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  half  choked  with  tenderness. 
"  Look  here,  Lalage :  the  honest  truth  is  that  I  shall  be 
ruined  if  I  marry  you  openly.  Let  us  be  married  quietly, 
and  keep  it  dark  until  I  am  more  independent." 

"Married !  Catch  me  at  it — if  you  can.  No,  dear 
boy,  I  am  very  fond  of  you,  and  you  are  one  of  the  right 
sort  to  make  me  the  offer;  but  I  wont  let  you  put  a 
collar  round  my  neck.  Matrimony  is  all  very  fine  for 
women  who  have  no  better  way  of  supporting  them- 
selves, but  it  wouldnt  suit  me.  Dont  look  so  dazed. 
What  difference  does  it  make  to  you?" 

"  But "     He  stopped,  bewild(  ,;d,  gazing  at  her. 

"  Get  out,  you  great  goose !  "  she  said,  and  suddenly 
sprang  out  of  the  hansom  and  darted  into  the  theatre. 

He  sat  gaping  after  her,  horrified — genuinely  horrified. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  Earl  of  Carbury  was  a  youngish  man  with 
no  sort  of  turn  for  being  a  nobleman.  He  could 
not  bring  himself  to  behave  as  if  he  was  any- 
body in  particular;  and  though  this  passed  for  perfect 
breeding  whenever  he  by  chance  appeared  in  his  place 
in  society,  on  the  magisterial  bench,  or  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  it  prevented  him  from  making  the  most  of  the 
earldom,  and  was  a  standing  grievance  with  his  relatives, 
many  of  whom  were  the  most  impudent  and  uppish 
people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  He  was,  if  he  had  only 
known  it,  a  born  republican,  with  no  natural  belief  in 
earls  at  all ;  but  as  he  was  rather  too  modest  to  indulge  his 
consciousness  with  broad  generalizations  of  this  kind, 
all  he  knew  about  the  matter  was  that  he  was  sensible  of 
being  a  bad  hand  at  his  hereditary  trade  of  territorial 
aristocrat.  At  a  very  early  age  he  had  disgraced  him- 
self by  asking  his  mother  whether  he  might  be  a  watch- 
maker when  he  grew  up,  and  his  feeble  sense  on  that 
occasion  of  the  impropriety  of  an  earl  being  anything 
whatsoever  except  an  earl  had  given  his  mother  an  im- 
perious contempt  for  him  which  afterward  got  curiously 
mixed  with  a  salutary  dread  of  his  moral  superiority  to 
her,  which  was  considerable.  His  aspiration  to  become 
a  watchmaker  was  an  early  symptom  of  his  extraor- 
dinary turn  for  mechanics.  An  apprenticeship  of  six- 
years  at  the  bench  would  have  made  an  educated  work- 
man of  him:  as  it  was,  he  pottered  at  every  mechanical 

68 


The   Irrational   Knot 

pursuit  as  a  gentleman  amateur  in  a  laboratory  and  work- 
shop which  he  had  got  built  for  himself  in  his  park.  In 
this  magazine  of  toys — for  such  it  virtually  was  at  first — 
he  satisfied  his  itchings  to  play  with  tools  and  machines. 
He  was  no  sportsman;  but  if  he  saw  in  a  shop  window 
the  most  trumpery  patent  improvement  in  a  breechloader, 
he  would  go  in  and  buy  it;  and  as  to  a  new  repeating 
rifle  or  liquefied  gas  gun,  he  would  travel  to  St.  Peters- 
burg to  see  it.  He  wrote  very  little ;  but  he  had  sixteen 
different  typewriters,  each  guaranteed  perfect  by  an 
American  agent,  who  had  also  pledged  himself  that  the 
other  fifteen  were  miserable  impostures.  A  really  ingen- 
ious bicycle  or  tricycle  always  found  in  him  a  ready 
purchaser ;  and  he  had  patented  a  roller  skate  and  a  rail- 
way brake.  When  the  electric  chair  for  dental  opera- 
tions was  invented,  he  sacrificed  a  tooth  to  satisfy  his 
curiosity  as  to  its  operation.  He  could  not  play  brass 
instruments  to  any  musical  purpose ;  but  his  collection  of 
double  slide  trombones,  bombardons  with  patent  com- 
pensating pistons,  comma  trumpets,  and  the  like,  would 
have  equipped  a  small  military  band ;  whilst  his  newly 
tempered  harmonium  with  fifty-three  notes  to  each  oc- 
tave, and  his  pianos  with  simplified  keyboards  that  nobody 
could  play  on,  were  the  despair  of  all  musical  amateurs 
who  came  to  stay  at  Towers  Cottage,  as  his  place  was 
called.  He  would  buy  the  most  expensive  and  elabo- 
rate lathe,  and  spend  a  month  trying  to  make  a  true 
billiard  ball  at  it.  At  the  end  of  that  time  he  would 
have  to  send  for  a  professional  hand,  who  would  cor- 
rect the  ball  with  apparently  miraculous  skill  in  a  few 
seconds.  He  got  on  better  with  chemistry  and  photog- 
raphy ;  but  at  last  he  settled  down  to  electrical  engineer- 
ing, and,  giving  up  the  idea  of  doing  everything  with  his 

69 


The   Irrational   Knot 

own  half -trained  hand,  kept  a  skilled  man  always  in  his 
laboratory  to  help  him  out. 

All  along  there  had  been  a  certain  love  of  the  marvel- 
ous at  the  bottom  of  his  fancy  for  inventions.  There- 
fore, though  he  did  not  in  the  least  believe  in  ghosts,  he 
would  "  investigate  "  spiritualism,  and  part  with  innu- 
merable guineas  to  mediums,  slatewriters,  clairvoyants, 
and  even  of  turbaned  rascals  from  the  East,  who  would 
boldly  offer  at  midnight  to  bring  him  out  into  the  back 
yard  and  there  and  then  raise  the  devil  for  him.  And 
just  as  his  tendency  was  to  magnify  the  success  and 
utility  of  his  patent  purchases,  so  he  would  lend  himself 
more  or  less  to  gross  impostures  simply  because  they  in- 
terested him.  This  confirmed  his  reputation  for  being 
a  bit  of  a  crank;  and  as  he  had  in  addition  all  the 
restlessness  and  eccentricity  of  the  active  spirits  of  his 
class,  arising  from  the  fact  that  no  matter  what  he  busied 
himself  with,  it  never  really  mattered  whether  he  ac- 
complished it  or  not,  he  remained  an  unsatisfied  and 
(considering  the  money  he  cost)  unsatisfactory  speci- 
men of  a  true  man  in  a  false  position. 

Towers  Cottage  was  supposed  to  be  a  mere  appendage 
to  Carbury  Towers,  which  had  been  burnt  down,  to  the 
great  relief  of  its  noble  owners,  in  the  reign  of  Will- 
iam IV.  The  Cottage,  a  handsome  one-storied  Tudor 
mansion,  with  tall  chimneys,  gabled  roofs,  and  transom 
windows,  had  since  served  the  family  as  a  very  sufficient 
residence,  needing  a  much  smaller  staff  of  servants  than 
the  Towers,  and  accommodating  fewer  visitors.  At  first 
it  had  been  assumed  on  all  hands  that  the  stay  at  the 
Cottage  was  but  a  temporary  one,  pending  the  re-erection 
of  the  Towers  on  a  scale  of  baronial  magnificence;  but 
this  tradition,  having  passed  through  its  primal  stage  of 

7° 


The   Irrational   Knot 

being  a  standing  excuse  with  the  elders  into  that  of  being 
a  standing  joke  with  the  children,  had  naturally  lapsed 
as  the  children  grew  up.  Indeed,  the  Cottage  was  now 
too  large  for  the  family ;  for  the  Earl  was  still  unmarried, 
and  all  his  sisters  had  contracted  splendid  alliances  ex- 
cept the  youngest,  Lady  Constance  Carbury,  a  maiden  of 
twenty-two,  with  a  thin  face  and  slight  angular  figure, 
who  was  still  on  her  mother's  hands.  The  illustrious 
matches  made  by  her  sisters  had,  in  fact,  been  secured 
by  -extravagant  dowering,  which  had  left  nothing  for 
poor  Lady  Constance  except  a  miserable  three  hundred 
pounds  a  year,  at  which  paltry  figure  no  man  had  as  yet 
offered  to  take  her.  The  Countess  (Dowager)  habitually 
assumed  that  Marmaduke  Lind  ardently  desired  the  hand 
of  his  cousin;  and  Constance  herself  supported  tacitly  this 
view ;  but  the  Earl  was  apt  to  become  restive  when  it  was 
put  forward,  though  he  altogether  declined  to  improve  his 
sister's  pecuniary  position,  having  already  speculated 
quite  heavily  enough  in  brothers-in-law. 

In  the  August  following  the  Wandsworth  concert 
Lord  Carbury  began  to  take  his  electrical  laboratory  with 
such  intensified  seriousness  that  he  flatly  refused  to  en- 
tertain any  visitors  until  the  I2th,  and  held  fast  to  his 
determination  in  spite  of  his  mother's  threat  to  leave  the 
house,  alleging,  with  a  laugh,  that  he  had  got  hold  of 
a  discovery  with  money  in  it  at  last.  But  he  felt  at 
such  a  disadvantage  after  this  incredible  statement  that 
he  hastened  to  explain  that  his  objection  to  visitors  did 
not  apply  to  relatives  who  would  be  sufficiently  at  home 
at  Towers  Cottage  to  require  no  attention  from  him. 
Under  the  terms  of  this  capitulation  Marian,  as  univer- 
sal favorite,  was  invited ;  and  since  there  was  no  getting 
Marian  down  without  Elinor,  she  was  invited  too,  in 

71 


The   Irrational   Knot 

spite  of  the  Countess's  strong  dislike  for  her,  a  senti- 
ment which  she  requited  with  a  pungent  mixture  of  de- 
testation and  contempt.  Marian's  brother,  the  Reverend 
George  Lind,  promised  to  come  down  in  a  day  or  two; 
and  Marmaduke,  who  was  also  invited,  did  not  reply. 

The  morning  after  her  arrival,  Marian  was  awakened 
at  six  o'clock  by  a  wagon  rumbling  past  the  window 
of  her  room  with  a  sound  quite  different  from  that  made 
by  the  dust-cart  in  Westbourne  Terrace.  She  peeped 
out  at  it,  and  saw  that  is  was  laden  with  packages  of 
irregular  shape,  which,  judging  by  some  strange-look- 
ing metal  rods  that  projected  through  the  covering,  she 
took  to  be  apparatus  for  Lord  Jasper's  laboratory.  From 
the  wagon,  with  its  patiently  trudging  horse  and  dull 
driver,  she  lifted  her  eyes  to  the  lawn,  where  the  patches 
of  wet  shadow  beneath  the  cedars  refreshed  the  sunlit 
grass  around  them.  It  looked  too  fine  a  morning  to 
spend  in  bed.  Had  Marian  been  able  to  taste  and  smell 
the  fragrant  country  air  she  would  not  have  hesitated 
a  moment.  But  she  had  been  accustomed  to  believe  that 
fresh  air  was  unhealthy  at  night,  and  though  nothing 
would  have  induced  her  to  wash  in  dirty  water,  she 
thought  nothing  of  breathing  dirty  air;  and  so  the  win- 
dow was  shut  and  the  room  close.  Still,  the  window 
did  not  exclude  the  loud  singing  of  the  birds  or  the  sun- 
light. She  ventured  to  open  it  a  little,  not  without  a 
sense  of  imprudence.  Twenty  minutes  later  she  was 
dressed. 

She  first  looked  into  the  drawing-room,  but  it  was 
stale  and  dreary.  The  dining-room,  which  she  tried 
next,  made  her  hungry.  The  arrival  of  a  servant  with 
a  broom  suggested  to  her  that  she  had  better  get  out  of 
the  way  of  the  household  work.  She  felt  half  sorry  for 

72 


The   Irrational   Knot 

getting  up,  and  went  out  on  the  lawn  to  recover  her 
spirits.  There  she  heard  a  man's  voice  trolling  a  stave 
somewhere  in  the  direction  of  the  laboratory.  Thinking 
that  it  might  be  Lord  Carbury,  and  that,  if  so,  he  would 
probably  not  wait  until  half  past  nine  to  break  his  fast, 
she  ran  gaily  off  round  the  southwest  corner  of  the 
Cottage  to  a  terrace,  from  which  there  was  access 
through  a  great  double  window,  now  wide  open,  to  a 
lofty  apartment  roofed  with  glass. 

At  a  large  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  sat  a  man 
with  his  back  to  the  window.  He  had  taken  off  his 
coat,  and  was  bending  over  a  small  round  block  with 
little  holes  sunk  into  it.  Each  hole  was  furnished  with 
a  neat  brass  peg,  topped  with  ebony;  and  the  man  was 
lifting  and  replacing  one  of  these  pegs  whilst  he  gravely 
watched  the  dial  of  an  instrument  that  resembled  a  small 
clock.  A  large  straw  hat  concealed  his  head,  and  pro- 
tected it  from  the  rays  that  were  streaming  through  the 
glass  roof  and  open  window.  The  apparent  triviality 
of  his  occupation,  and  his  intentness  upon  it,  amused 
Marian.  She  stole  into  the  laboratory,  came  close  be- 
hind him,  and  said: 

"  Since  you  have  nothing  better  to  do  than  play 
cribbage  with  yourself,  I " 

She  had  gently  lifted  up  his  straw  hat,  and  found  be- 
neath a  head  that  was  not  Lord  Carbury's.  The  man, 
who  had  cowered  with  surprise  at  her  touch  and  voice, 
but  had  waited  even  then  to  finish  an  observation  of  his 
galvanometer  before  turning,  now  turned  and  stared  at 
her. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Marian,  blushing  vigor- 
ously. "  I  thought  it  was  Lord  Carbury.  I  have  dis- 
turbed you  very  rudely.  I " 

73 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  man.  "  I  quite  understand.  I 
was  not  playing  cribbage,  but  I  was  doing  nothing  very 
important.  However,  as  you  certainly  did  take  me  by 
surprise,  perhaps  you  will  excuse  my  coat." 

"  Oh,  pray  dont  mind  me.  I  must  not  interrupt  your 
work."  She  looked  at  his  face  again,  but  only  for  an 
instant,  as  he  was  watching  her.  Then,  with  another 
blush,  she  put  out  her  hand  and  said,  "  How  do  you  do, 
Mr.  Conolly.  I  did  not  recognize  you  at  first." 

He  shook  hands,  but  did  not  offer  any  further  conver- 
sation. "  What  a  wonderful  place !  "  she  said,  looking 
round,  with  a  view  to  making  herself  agreeable  by  taking 
an  interest  in  everything.  "  Wont  you  explain  it  all  to 
me  ?  To  begin  with,  what  is  electricity  ?  " 

Conolly  stared  rather  at  this  question,  and  then  shook 
his  head.  "  I  dont  know  anything  about  that,"  he  said ; 
"  I  am  only  a  workman.  Perhaps  Lord  Carbury  can 
tell  you :  he  has  read  a  good  deal  about  it." 

Marian  looked  incredulously  at  him.  "  I  am  sure  you 
are  joking,"  she  said.  "  Lord  Carbury  says  you  know 
ever  so  much  more  than  he  does.  I  suppose  I  asked 
a  stupid  question.  What  are  those  reels  of  green  silk 
for?" 

"Ah,"  said  Conolly,  relaxing.  "  Come  now,  I  can 
tell  you  that  easily  enough.  I  dont  know  what  it  is, 
but  I  know  what  it  does,  and  I  can  lay  traps  to  catch 
it.  Here  now,  for  instance- " 

And  he  went  on  to  deliver  a  sort  of  chatty  Royal 
Institution  Children's  Lecture  on  Electricity  which  pro- 
duced a  great  impression  on  Marian,  who  was  accustomed 
to  nothing  better  than  small  talk.  She  longed  to  interest 
him  by  her  comments  and  questions,  but  she  found  that 
they  had  a  most  discouraging  effect  on  him.  Redoub- 

74 


The   Irrational   Knot 

ling  her  efforts,  she  at  last  reduced  him  to  silence,  of 
which  she  availed  herself  to  remark,  with  great  earnest- 
ness, that  science  was  a  very  wonderful  thing. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  he  said,  a  little  bluntly. 

"  I  am  sure  it  must  be,"  she  replied,  brightening ;  for 
she  thought  he  had  now  made  a  rather  foolish  remark. 
"  Is  Lord  Carbury  a  very  clever  scientist  ?  " 

Conolly  looked  just  grave  enough  to  suggest  that  the 
question  was  not  altogether  a  discreet  one.  Then,  brush- 
ing off  that  consideration,  he  replied: 

"  He  has  seen  a  great  deal  and  read  a  great  deal. 
You  see,  he  has  great  means  at  his  disposal.  His  prop- 
erty is  as  good  as  a  joint-stock  company  at  his  back. 
Practically,  he  is  very  good,  considering  his  method  of 
working:  not  so  good,  considering  the  means  at  his 
disposal." 

"  What  would  you  do  if  you  had  his  means  ?  " 

Conolly  made  a  gesture  which  plainly  signified  that 
he  thought  he  could  do  a  great  many  things. 

"And  is  science,  then,  so  expensive?  I  thought  it  was 
beyond  the  reach  of  money." 

"  Oh,  yes :  science  may  be.  But  I  am  not  a  scientific 
man:  I'm  an  inventor.  The  two  things  are  quite  differ- 
ent. Invention  is  the  most  expensive  thing  in  the  world. 
It  takes  no  end  of  time,  and  no  end  of  money.  Time  is 
money;  so  it  costs  both  ways." 

"  Then  why  dont  you  discover  something  and  make 
your  fortune?" 

"  I  have  already  discovered  something." 

"Oh!     What  is  it?" 

"  That  it  costs  a  fortime  to  make  experiments  enough 
to  lead  to  an  invention." 

75 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"You  are  exaggerating,  are  you  not?  What  do  you 
mean  by  a  fortune  ?  " 

"  In  my  case,  at  least  four  or  five  hundred  pounds." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  Surely  you  would  have  no  difficulty  in 
getting  five  hundred  pounds." 

Conolly  laughed.  "  To  be  sure,"  said  he.  "  What  is 
five  hundred  pounds  ?  " 

"A  mere  nothing — considering  the  importance  of  the 
object.  You  really  ought  not  to  allow  such  a  consider- 
ation as  that  to  delay  your  career.  I  have  known  people 
spend  as  much  in  one  day  on  the  most  worthless  things." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,  Miss  Lind.  How  would 
you  recommend  me  to  begin  ?  " 

"  First,"  said  Marian,  with  determination,  "  make  up 
your  mind  to  spend  the  money.  Banish  all  scruples 
about  the  largeness  of  the  sum.  Resolve  not  to  grudge 
even  twice  as  much  to  science." 

"  That  is  done  already.  I  have  quite  made  up  my 
mind  to  spend  the  money.  What  next  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  the  next  thing  is  to  spend  it." 

"  Excuse  me.  The  next  thing  is  to  get  it.  It  is  a 
mere  detail,  I  know;  but  I  should  like  to  settle  it  before 
we  go  any  further." 

"  But  how  can  I  tell  you  that  ?  You  forget  that  I  am 
quite  unacquainted  with  your  affairs.  You  are  a  man, 
and  understand  business,  which  of  course  I  dont." 

"  If  you  wanted  five  hundred  pounds,  Miss  Lind,  how 
would  you  set  about  getting  it? — if  I  may  ask." 

"  What  ?  I !  But,  as  I  say,  I  am  only  a  woman.  I 
should  ask  my  father  for  it,  or  sign  a  receipt  for  my 
trustees,  or  something  of  that  sort." 

"  That  is  a  very  simple  plan.     But  unfortunately  I 

76 


The   Irrational   Knot 

have  no  father  and  no  trustees.  Worse  than  that,  I  have 
no  money.  You  must  suggest  some  other  way." 

"  Do  what  everybody  else  does  in  your  circumstances. 
Borrow  it.  I  am  sure  Lord  Carbury  would  lend  it  to 
you." 

Conolly  shook  his  head.  "  It  doesnt  do  for  a  man  in 
my  position  to  start  borrowing  the  moment  he  makes  the 
acquaintance  of  a  man  in  Lord  Carbury's,"  he  said. 
"  We  are  working  a  little  together  already  on  one  of  my 
ideas,  and  that  is  as  far  as  I  care  to  ask  him  to  go.  I 
am  afraid  I  must  ask  you  for  another  suggestion." 

"  Save  up  all  your  money  until  you  have  enough." 

"  That  would  take  some  time.  Let  me  see.  As  I  am 
an  exceptionally  fortunate  and  specially  skilled  workman, 
I  can  now  calculate  on  making  from  seventy  shillings  to 
six  pounds  a  week.  Say  four  pounds  on  the  average." 

"Ah,"  said  Marian,  despondingly,  "  you  would  have  to 
wait  more  than  two  years  to  save  five  hundred  pounds." 

"And  to  dispense  with  food,  clothes,  and  lodging  in 
the  meantime." 

"  True,"  said  Marian.  "  Of  course,  I  see  that  it  is 
impossible  for  you  to  save  anything.  And  yet  it  seems 
absurd  to  be  stopped  by  the  want  of  such  a  sum.  I  have 
a  cousin  who  has  no  money  at  all,  and  no  experiments  to 
make,  and  he  paid  a  thousand  pounds  for  a  race-horse 
last  spring." 

Conolly  nodded,  to  intimate  that  he  knew  that  such 
things  happened. 

Marian  could  think  of  no  further  expedient.  She 
stood  still,  thinking,  whilst  Conolly  took  up  a  bit  of 
waste  and  polished  a  brass  cylinder. 

"  Mr.  Conolly,"  she  said  at  last,  "  I  cannot  absolutely 
promise  you;  but  I  think  I  can  get  you  five  hundred 


The   Irrational   Knot 

pounds."  Conolly  stopped  polishing  the  cylinder,  and 
stared  at  her.  "  If  I  have  not  enough,  I  am  sure  we 
could  make  the  rest  by  a  bazaar  or  something.  I  should 
like  to  begin  to  invest  my  money ;  and  if  you  make  some 
great  invention,  like  the  telegraph  or  steam  engine,  you 
will  be  able  to  pay  it  back  to  me,  and  to  lend  me  money 
when  /  want  it." 

Conolly  blushed.  "  Thank  you,  Miss  Lind,"  said  he, 
"  thank  you  very  much  indeed.  I — It  would  be  ungrate- 
ful of  me  to  refuse;  but  I  am  not  so  ready  to  begin  my 
experiments  as  my  talking  might  lead  you  to  suppose. 
My  estimate  of  their  cost  was  a  mere  guess.  I  am  not 
satisfied  that  it  is  not  want  of  time  and  perseverance 
more  than  of  money  that  is  the  real  obstacle.  However, 

I  will — I  will — a Have  you  any  idea  of  the  value  of 

money,  Miss  Lind?  Have  you  ever  had  the  handling 
of  it?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Marian,  secretly  thinking  that  the 
satisfaction  of  shaking  his  self-possession  was  cheap  at 
five  hundred  pounds.  "  I  keep  house  at  home,  and  do 
all  sorts  of  business  things." 

Conolly  glanced  about  him  vaguely;  picked  up  the 
piece  of  waste  again  as  if  he  had  been  looking  for  that; 
recollected  himself;  and  looked  unintelligibly  at  her. 
Her  uncertainty  as  to  what  he  would  do  next  was  a 
delightful  sensation:  why,  she  did  not  know  nor  care. 
To  her  intense  disappointment,  Lord  Carbury  entered 
just  then,  and  roused  her  from  what  was  unaccountably 
like  a  happy  dream. 

Nothing  more  of  any  importance  happened  that  day 
except  the  arrival  of  a  letter  from  Paris,  addressed  to 
Lady  Constance  in  Marmaduke's  handwriting.  Miss 
McQuinch  first  heard  of  it  in  the  fruit  garden,  where 

78 


The   Irrational   Knot 

she  found  Constance  sitting  with  her  arm  around  Ma- 
rian's waist  in  a  summer-house.  She  sat  down  opposite 
them,  at  a  rough  oak  table. 

"A  letter,  Nelly !  "  said  Marian.  "A  letter !  A  letter 
from  Marmaduke!  I  have  extorted  leave  for  you  to 
read  it.  Here  it  is.  Handle  it  carefully,  pray." 

"  Has  he  proposed  ?  "  said  Elinor,  taking  it. 

Constance  changed  color.  Elinor  opened  the  letter  in 
silence,  and  read : 

My  dear  Constance: 

I  hope  you  are  quite  well.  I  am  having 
an  azvfully  jolly  time  of  it  here.  What  a  pity  it 
is  you  dont  come  over!  I  was  wishing  for  you 
yesterday  in  the  Louvre,  where  we  spent  a  pleas- 
ant day  looking  at  the  pictures.  I  send  you  the 
silk  you  wanted,  and  had  great  trouble  hunting 
through  half-a-dosen  shops  for  it.  Not  that  I 
mind  the  trouble,  but  fust  to  let  you  see  my  de- 
votion to  you.  I  have  no  more  to  say  at  present, 
as  it  is  nearly  post  hour.  Remember  me  to  the 
clan.  Yours  ever, 

DUKE. 

PS. — How  do  Nelly  and  your  mother  get 
along  together? 

Whilst  Elinor  was  reading,  the  gardener  passed  the 
summer-house,  and  Constance  went  out  and  spoke  to 
him.  Elinor  looked  significantly  at  Marian. 

"  Nelly,"  returned  Marian,  in  hushed  tones  of  re- 
proach, "  you  have  stabbed  poor  Constance  to  the  heart 
by  telling  her  that  Marmaduke  never  proposed  to  her. 
That  is  why  she  has  gone  out." 

"  Yes,"  said  Elinor,  "  it  was  brutal.  But  I  thought, 
as  you  made  such  a  fuss  about  the  letter,  that  it  must 

79 


The  Irrational   Knot 

have  been  a  proposal  at  least.  It  cant  be  helped  now. 
It  is  one  more  enemy  for  me,  that  is  all." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  letter  ?  Was  it  not  kind 
of  him  to  write — considering  how  careless  he  is  usually  ?  " 

"  Hm !     Did  he  match  the  silk  properly  ?  " 

"  To  perfection.  He  must  really  have  taken  some 
trouble.  You  know  how  he  botched  getting  the  ribbon 
for  his  fancy  dress  at  the  ball  last  year." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  was  thinking  about.  Do  you 
remember  also  how  he  ridiculed  the  Louvre  after  his 
first  trip  to  Paris,  and  swore  that  nothing  would  ever 
induce  him  to  enter  it  again  ?  " 

"  He  has  got  more  sense  now.  He  says  in  the  letter 
that  he  spent  yesterday  there." 

"  Not  exactly.  He  says  '  we  spent  a  pleasant  day 
looking  at  the  pictures.'  Who  is  'we'?" 

"  Some  companion  of  his,  I  suppose.     Why  ? " 

"  I  was  just  thinking  could  it  be  the  person  who  has 
matched  the  silk  so  well.  The  same  woman,  I  mean." 

"Oh,  Nelly!" 

"  Oh,  Marian !  Do  you  suppose  Marmaduke  would 
spend  an  afternoon  at  the  Louvre  with  a  man,  who  could 
just  as  well  go  by  himself?  Do  men  match  silks?  " 

"  Of  course  they  do.  Any  fly-fisher  can  do  it  better 
than  a  woman.  Really,  Nell,  you  have  an  odious  imag- 
ination." 

"  Yes — when  my  imagination  is  started  on  an  odious 
track.  Nothing  will  persuade  me  that  Marmaduke  cares 
a  straw  for  Constance.  He  does  not  want  to  marry  her, 
though  he  is  too  great  a  coward  to  own  it." 

"  Why  do  you  say  so  ?  I  grant  you  he  is  unceremonious 
and  careless.  But  he  is  the  same  to  everybody." 

"  Yes :  to  everybody  we  know.     What  is  the  use  of 

80 


The  Irrational  Knot 

straining  after  an  amiable  view  of  things,  Marian,  when 
a  cynical  view  is  most  likely  to  be  the  true  one." 

"  There  is  no  harm  in  giving  people  credit  for  being 
good." 

"  Yes,  there  is,  when  people  are  not  good,  which  is 
most  often  the  case.  It  sets  us  wrong  practically,  and 
holds  virtue  cheap.  If  Marmaduke  is  a  noble  and  warm- 
hearted man,  and  Constance  a  lovable,  innocent  girl,  all 
I  can  say  is  that  it  is  not  worth  while  to  be  noble  or 
lovable.  If  amiability  consists  in  maintaining  that  black 
is  white,  it  is  a  quality  anyone  may  acquire  by  telling  a 
lie  and  sticking  to  it." 

"  But  I  dont  maintain  that  black  is  white.  Only  it 
seems  to  me  that  as  regards  white,  you  are  color  blind. 

Where  I  see  white,  you  see  black ;  and hush !  Here 

is  Constance." 

"  Yes,"  whispered  Elinor :  "  she  comes  back  quickly 
enough  when  it  occurs  to  her  that  we  are  talking  about 
her." 

Instead  of  simply  asking  why  Constance  should  not 
behave  in  this  very  natural  manner  if  she  chose  to,  Ma- 
rian was  about  to  defend  Constance  warmly  by  denying 
all  motive  to  her  return,  when  that  event  took  place  and 
stopped  the  discussion.  Marian  and  Nelly  spent  a  con- 
siderable part  of  their  lives  in  bandying  their  likes  and 
dislikes  under  the  impression  that  they  were  arguing  im- 
portant points  of  character  and  conduct. 

They  knew  that  Constance  wanted  to  answer  Marma- 
duke's  letter;  so  they  alleged  correspondence  of  their 
own,  and  left  her  to  herself. 

Lady  Constance  went  to  her  brother's  study,  where 
there  was  a  comfortable  writing-table.  She  began  to 
write  without  hesitation,  and  her  pen  gabbled  rapidly  un- 

81 


The   Irrational   Knot 

til  she  had  covered  two  sheets  of  paper,  when,  instead 
of  taking  a  fresh  sheet,  she  wrote  across  the  lines  already 
written.  After  signing  the  letter,  she  read  it  through, 
and  added  two  postscripts.  Then  she  remembered  some- 
thing she  had  forgotten  to  say;  but  there  was  no 
more  room  on  her  two  sheets,  and  she  was  reluctant  to 
use  a  third,  which  might,  in  a  letter  to  France,  involve 
extra  postage.  Whilst  she  was  hesitating  her  brother 
entered. 

"Am  I  in  your  way  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  shall  have  done 
in  a  moment." 

"  No,  I  am  not  going  to  write.  By-the-bye,  they  tell 
me  you  had  a  letter  from  Marmaduke  this  morning.  Has 
he  anything  particular  to  say?" 

"  Nothing  very  particular.     He  is  in  Paris." 

"  Indeed  ?     Are  you  writing  to  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Constance,  irritated  by  his  disparaging 
tone.  "Why  not?" 

"  Do  as  you  please,  of  course.  I  am  afraid  he  is  a 
scamp." 

"Are  you?  You  know  a  great  deal  about  him,  I  dare 
say." 

"  I  am  not  much  reassured  by  those  who  do  know 
about  him." 

"And  who  may  they  be?  The  only  person  you  know 
who  has  seen  much  of  him  is  Marian,  and  she  doesnt 
speak  ill  of  people  behind  their  backs." 

"  Marian  takes  rather  a  rose-colored  view  of  every- 
body, Marmaduke  included.  You  should  talk  to  Nelly 
about  him." 

"  I  knew  it.  I  knew,  the  minute  you  began  to  talk, 
who  had  set  you  on." 

82 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  I  am  afraid  Nelly's  opinion  is  worth  more  than 
Marian's." 

"Her  opinion!  Everybody  knows  what  her  opinion 
is.  She  is  bursting  with  jealousy  of  me." 

"  Jealousy !  " 

"  What  else  ?  Marmaduke  has  never  taken  the  least 
notice  of  her,  and  she  is  madly  in  love  with  him." 

"  This  is  quite  a  new  light  upon  the  affair.  Con- 
stance, are  you  sure  you  are  not  romancing  ?  " 

"  Romancing !  Why,  she  cannot  conceal  her  venom. 
She  taunted  me  this  morning  in  the  summer-house  be- 
cause Marmaduke  has  never  made  me  a  formal  proposal. 
It  was  the  letter  that  made  her  do  it.  Ask  Marian." 

"I  can  hardly  believe  it:  I  should  not  have  supposed, 
from  what  I  have  observed,  that  she  cared  about  him." 

"  You  should  not  have  supposed  it  from  what  she  said : 
is  that  what  you  mean  ?  I  dont  care  whether  you  believe 
it  or  not." 

"  Well,  if  you  are  so  confident,  there  is  no  occasion  to 
be  acrimonious  about  Elinor.  She  is  more  to  be  pitied 
than  blamed." 

"  Yes,  everybody  is  to  pity  Elinor  because  she  cant 
have  her  wish  and  make  me  wretched,"  said  Constance, 
beginning  to  cry.  Whereupon  Lord  Carbury  immedi- 
ately left  the  room. 


CHAPTER   IV 

LONG  before  the  harvest  was  home,  preparations 
were  made  at  Towers  Cottage  to  receive  another 
visitor.  The  Rev.  peorge  Lind  was  coming.  Lord 
Carbury  drove  in  the  wagonet  to  the  railway  station, 
and  met  him  on  the  platform. 

"  How  are  you,  my  dear  fellow  ?  "  cried  the  clergyman, 
shaking  the  earl's  hand.  "  Why  did  you  trouble  to  meet 
me?  I  could  have  taken  a  fly.  Most  kind  of  you,  I  am 
sure.  How  is  your  dear  mother  ?  And  Constance :  how 
is  she?" 

"All  quite  well,  thank  you.  Just  show  my  fellow  your 
traps;  he  will  see  to  them." 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  need  to  trouble  him.  I  myself  or  a 
porter — oh,  thank  you,  I  am  sure ;  the  brown  one  with 
G.  L.  on  it — and  that  small  green  metal  box  too,  if  you 
will  be  so  good.  Thank  you  very  much.  And  how  are 
you,  Jasper,  if  I  may  call  you  so  ?  Studious  still,  eh  ?  I 
hope  he  will  be  careful  of  the  box.  No,  not  a  word  to 
him,  I  beg :  it  does  not  matter  at  all.  What  a  charming 
little  trap !  WThat  air !  Happy  man,  Jasper !  These  fields 
are  better  than  the  close  alleys  and  garrets  to  which  my 
profession  leads  me." 

"Jump  in." 

"  Thank  you.     And  how  is  Marian  ?  " 

"  Quite  well,  thank  you.  Everybody  is  quite  well. 
The  girls  are  at  a  tennis  party,  or  they  would  have  come 
to  meet  you.  Constance  desired  me  particularly  to 
apologize." 

"Oh,  needless,  most  needless.     Why  should  they  not 

84 


The   Irrational   Knot 

enjoy  themselves?  What  a  landscape!  The  smiling 
beauty  of  nature  in  the  country  is  like  a — like  a  message 
to  us.  This  is  indeed  a  delightful  drive." 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  capital  trotter,  this  mare  of  mine.  What 
do  you  think  of  her  ?  " 

"A  noble  animal,  Jasper.  Although  I  never  studied 
horseflesh  much,  even  in  my  university  days,  I  can  ad- 
mire a  spirited  nag  on  occasion.  But  I  have  to  content 
myself  with  humbler  means  of  locomotion  in  my  own 
calling.  A  poor  parson  cannot  entertain  his  friends  as 
a  magnate  like  you  can.  Have  you  any  one  at  the  hall 
now,  besides  the  girls  ?  " 

"  No.  The  place  will  be  rather  dull  for  you,  I  am 
afraid." 

"  Not  at  all,  my  dear  fellow,  not  at  all.  I  shall  be 
satisfied  and  thankful  under  all  circumstances." 

"  We  have  led  a  humdrum  life  for  the  past  month. 
Marian  and  Elinor  have  begun  to  potter  about  in  my 
laboratory.  They  come  there  every  day  for  an  hour  to 
work  and  study,  as  they  call  it." 

"  Indeed !  I  have  no  doubt  Marian  will  find  the  study 
of  nature  most  improving.  It  is  very  generous  of  you 
to  allow  her  to  trespass  on  you." 

"  I  occupy  myself  chiefly  with  Nelly  McQuinch.  Ma- 
rian is  my  assistant's  pupil,  and  he  has  made  a  very  ex- 
pert workwoman  of  her  already.  With  a  little  direction, 
she  can  put  a  machine  together  as  well  as  I  can." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it.     And  dear  Nelly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  Nelly  treats  the  subject  in  her  usual  way. 
But  she  is  very  amusing." 

"Ah,  Jasper!  Ah!  An  unstable  nature  there,  an  un- 
stable nature !  Elinor  has  not  been  firmly  trained.  She 
needs  to  be  tried  by  adversity." 

85 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  No  doubt  she  will  be.     Most  of  us  are." 

"And  dear  Constance  ?     Does  she  study  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Ahem!  A — have  you ?  That  is  St.  Mildred's 

yonder,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  It  is.  They  have  put  a  new  clock  in  the  tower,  worth 
about  sixty  pounds.  I  believe  they  collected  a  hundred 
and  fifty  for  the  purpose.  But  you  were  going  to  say 
something  else." 

"  No.  At  least,  I  indended  to  ask  you  about  Marma- 
duke.  He  is  coming  down,  I  understand." 

"  I  dont  know  what  he  is  doing.  Last  week  he  wrote 
to  us  that  he  had  just  returned  from  Paris ;  but  I  hap- 
pened to  know  that  he  had  then  been  back  for  some  time. 
He  has  arranged  to  come  twice,  but  on  each  occasion, 
at  the  last  moment,  he  has  made  excuses.  He  can  do  as 
he  likes  now.  I  wish  he  would  say  definitely  that  he 
doesnt  intend  to  come,  instead  of  shilly-shallying  from 
week  to  week.  Hallo,  Prentice,  have  the  ladies  returned 
yet  ? "  This  was  addressed  to  the  keeper  of  the  gate- 
lodge,  at  which  they  had  now  arrived.  He  replied  that 
the  ladies  were  still  absent. 

"  Then,"  said  Lord  Carbury,  "  we  had  better  get 
down  and  stroll  across  the  lawn.  Perhaps  you  are  tired, 
though?" 

"  Not  at  all.  I  should  prefer  it.  What  a  lovely  ave- 
nue! What  greenery!  How — " 

"  We  were  talking  about  Marmaduke.  Do  you  know 
what  he  is  doing  at  present?  He  talks  of  being  busy, 
and  of  not  having  a  moment  to  spare.  I  can  understand 
a  fellow  not  having  a  moment  to  spare  in  June  or  July, 
but  what  Marmaduke  has  to  do  in  London  in  September 
is  more  than  I  can  imagine." 

86 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  do  not  care  to  enquire  into  these  things  too  closely. 
I  had  intended  to  speak  to  you  on  the  subject.  Marma- 
duke,  as  I  suppose  you  know,  has  taken  a  house  at  West 
Kensington." 

"A  house  at  West  Kensington!  No,  I  did  not  know 
it.  What  has  he  done  that  for?  " 

"  I  fear  he  has  been  somewhat  disingenuous  with  me  on 
the  subject.  I  think  he  tried  to  prevent  the  matter  com- 
ing to  my  ears;  and  when  I  asked  him  about  it,  he 
certainly  implied — in  fact,  I  grieve  to  say  he  left  me 
under  the  impression  that  he  had  taken  the  house  with 
a  view  to  marrying  dear  Constance,  and  settling  down. 
I  expressed  some  surprise  at  his  going  so  far  out  of  town; 
but  he  did  not  volunteer  any  further  explanation,  and 
so  the  matter  dropped."  The  Rev.  George  paused,  and 
then  continued  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Not  long  afterward  I 
met  him  at  a  very  late  hour.  He  had  perhaps  exceeded 
a  little  in  his  cups;  for  he  spoke  to  me  with  the  most 
shocking  cynicism,  inviting  me  to  supper  at  this  house 
of  his,  and  actually  accusing  me  of  knowing  perfectly 
well  the  terrible  truth  about  his  occupation  of  it.  He 
assured  me  that  she — meaning,  I  presume,  the  unhappy 
person  with  whom  he  lives  there — was  exceptionally  at- 
tractive; and  I  have  since  discovered  that  she  is  con- 
nected with  the  theatre,  and  of  great  notoriety.  I  need 
not  tell  you  how  dreadful  all  this  is  to  me,  Jasper;  but 
to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  which  I  have  fortified  by 
earnest  prayers  for  guidance,  it  is  my  imperative  duty 
to  tell  you  of  it." 

"  The  vagabond !  It  is  exactly  as  I  have  always  said : 
Constance  is  too  tame  for  him.  He  does  not  care  a 
d " 

87 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"Jasper,  my  dear  fellow,  gently,"  said  the  clergyman, 
pressing  his  arm. 

"  Pshaw !  "  said  the  Earl,  "  I  dont  care.  I  think  Con- 
stance is  well  out  of  it.  Let  us  drop  the  subject  for  the 
present.  I  hear  the  carriage." 

"  Yes,  here  it  is.  Dear  Lady  Carbury  has  recognized 
me,  and  is  waving  her  hand."  The  Rev.  George  stood 
on  tiptoe  as  he  spoke,  and  flourished  his  low-crowned  soft 
felt  hat. 

During  the  ensuing  greetings  Carbury  stood  silent, 
looking  at  the  horses  with  an  expression  that  made  the 
coachman  uneasy.  At  dinner  he  ate  sedulously,  and  left 
the  task  of  entertaining  the  visitor  to  his  mother  and  the 
girls.  The  clergyman  was  at  no  loss  for  conversation. 
He  was  delighted  with  the  dinner,  delighted  with  the 
house,  delighted  to  see  the  Countess  looking  so  well,  and 
delighted  to  hear  that  the  tennis  party  that  day  had  been 
a  pleasant  one.  The  Earl  listened  with  impatience,  and 
was  glad  when  his  mother  rose.  Before  she  quitted  the 
dining-room  he  made  a  sign  to  her,  and  she  soon  re- 
turned, leaving  Marian,  Constance,  and  Elinor  in  the 
drawing-room. 

"  You  will  not  mind  my  staying,  I  hope,  George,"  she 
said,  as  she  resumed  her  seat. 

"A  delightful  precedent,  and  from  a  distinguished 
source,"  said  the  Rev.  George.  "Allow  me  to  pass  the 
bottle.  Ha!  ha!" 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  said  the  Countess.  "  I  never  take 
wine."  Her  tone  was  inconclusive,  as  if  she  intended  to 
take  something  else. 

"  Will  you  take  brandy-and-soda  ? "  said  her  son, 
rather  brusquely. 

Lady  Carbury  lowered  her  eyelids  in  protest.     Then 

88 


The   Irrational   Knot 

she  said:  "A  very  little,  if  you  please,  Jasper.  I  dare 
not  touch  wine,"  she  continued  to  the  clergyman.  "  I 
am  the  slave  of  my  medical  man  in  all  matters  relating 
to  my  unfortunate  digestion." 

"  Mother,"  said  Jasper,  "  George  has  brought  us  a  nice 
piece  of  news  concerning  your  pet  Marmaduke." 

The  clergyman  became  solemn  and  looked  steadily  at 
his  glass. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  fair  to  describe  him  as  my 
pet  exactly,"  said  the  Countess,  a  little  troubled.  "  I  trust 
there  is  nothing  unpleasant  the  matter." 

"  Oh,  nothing !  He  has  settled  down  domestically  in 
a  mansion  at  West  Kensington,  that  is  all." 

"What!  Married!" 

"  Unhappily,"  said  the  Rev.  George,  "  no,  not  married." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  Countess  slowly,  as  an  expression  of 
relief.  "  It  is  very  shocking,  of  course ;  very  wrong  in- 
deed. Young  men  will  do  these  things.  It  is  especially 
foolish  in  Marmaduke's  case,  for  he  really  cannot  afford 
to  make  any  settlement  such  as  this  kind  of  complication 
usually  involves  when  the  time  comes  for  getting  rid  of 
it.  Pray  do  not  let  it  come  to  Constance's  ears.  It  is 
not  a  proper  subject  for  a  girl." 

"  Quite  as  proper  a  subject  as  marriage  with  a  fellow 
like  Marmaduke,"  said  Jasper,  rising  coolly  and  lighting 
a  cigaret.  "  However,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  trouble 
about  that  when  there  is  any  sign  of  his  having  the 
slightest  serious  intentions  toward  Constance.  For  my 
part  I  dont  believe,  and  I  never  did  believe,  that  there 
was  anything  real  in  the  business.  This  last  move  of 
his  proves  it — to  my  satisfaction,  at  any  rate." 

Lady  Carbury,  with  a  slight  but  impressive  bridling, 
and  yet  with  an  evident  sense  of  discomfiture,  proceeded 

89 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  assert  herself  before  the  clergyman.  "  I  beg  you  will 
control  yourself,  Jasper,"  she  said.  "  I  do  not  like  to  be 
spoken  to  in  that  tone.  In  discharging  the  very  great 
responsibility  which  rests  with  a  mother,  I  am  compelled 
to  take  the  world  as  I  find  it,  and  to  acknowledge  that 
certain  very  deplorable  tendencies  must  be  allowed  for 
in  society.  You,  in  the  solitude  of  your  laboratory,  con- 
template an  ideal  state  of  things  that  we  all,  I  am  sure, 
long  for,  but  which  unhappily  does  not  exist.  I  have 
never  enquired  into  Marmaduke's  private  life,  and  I 
think  you  ought  not  to  have  done  so.  I  could  not 
disguise  from  myself  the  possibility  of  his  having  en- 
tered into  some  such  relations  as  those  you  have  alluded 
to." 

Jasper,  without  the  slightest  appearance  of  having 
heard  this  speech,  strolled  casually  out  of  the  room.  The 
Countess,  baffled,  turned  to  her  sympathetic  guest. 

"  I  am  sure  that  you,  George,  must  feel  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  us  to  keep  this  matter  to  ourselves." 

The  Rev.  George  said,  gravely,  "  I  do  not  indeed  see 
what  blessing  can  rest  on  our  interference  in  such  an 
inexpressibly  shocking  business.  It  is  for  Marmaduke 
to  wrestle  with  his  own  conscience." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  the  Countess,  shrugging  her  shoul- 
ders as  if  to  invite  her  absent  son's  attention  to  this  con- 
firmation of  her  judgment.  "  Is  it  not  absurd  of  Jasper 
to  snatch  at  such  an  excuse  for  breaking  off  the  match  ?  " 

"  I  can  sympathize  with  Jasper's  feeling,  I  trust.  It 
is  natural  for  a  candid  nature  to  recoil  from  duplicity. 
But  all  our  actions  need  charitable  construction ;  and, 
remembering  that,  we  should  take  heed  to  prevent  our 
forebearance  toward  others  from  wavering.  Who  knows 
that  the  alliance  with  your  pure  and  lovely  daughter  may 


The   Irrational   Knot 

not  be  the  means  specially  ordained  to  rescue  him  from 
his  present  condition." 

"  I  think  it  very  possible,"  drawled  the  Countess,  look- 
ing at  him,  nevertheless,  with  a  certain  contempt  for 
what  she  privately  considered  his  priggish,  underbred 
cant.  "  Besides,  such  things  are  recognized,  though  of 
course  they  are  not  spoken  of,  No  lady  could  with 
common  decency  pretend  to  know  that  such  connexions 
are  possible,  much  less  assign  one  of  them  as  a  reason 
for  breaking  off  an  engagement." 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  the  Rev.  George ;  "  but  can  these 
worldly  considerations  add  anything  to  the  approval  of 
our  consciences?  I  think  not.  We  will  keep  our  own 
counsel  in  this  matter  in  the  sight  of  Heaven.  Then, 
whatever  the  world  may  think,  all  will  surely  come  right 
in  the  end." 

"  Oh,  it  is  sure  to  come  right  in  the  end :  these  wretched 
businesses  always  do.  I  cannot  imagine  men  having 
such  low  tastes — as  if  there  were  anything  in  these 
women  more  than  in  anybody  else!  Come  into  the 
drawing-room,  George." 

They  went  into  the  drawing-room  and  found  it  de- 
serted. The  ladies  were  in  the  veranda.  The  Count- 
ess took  up  the  paper  and  composed  herself  for  a  nap. 
George  went  into  the  porch,  where  the  girls,  having 
seen  the  sun  go  down,  were  now  watching  the  deepening 
gloom  among  the  trees  that  skirted  the  lawn.  Marian 
proposed  that  they  should  walk  through  the  plantation 
whilst  there  was  still  a  little  light  left,  and  the  clergy- 
man readily  assented.  He  rather  repented  of  this  when 
they  got  into  the  deep  gloom  under  the  trees,  and  Elinor 
began  to  tell  stories  about  adders,  wild  cats,  poachers, 
and  anything  else  that  could  possibly  make  a  nervous 


The   Irrational   Knot 

man  uncomfortable  under  such  circumstances.  He  was 
quite  relieved  when  they  saw  the  spark  of  a  cigaret 
ahead  of  them  and  heard  the  voices  of  Jasper  and  Con- 
oily  coming  toward  them  through  the  darkness. 

"  Oh,  I  believe  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr. 
Conolly,"  said  the  Rev.  George,  formally,  when  they  met. 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Conolly.  "  If  you  ladies  have  thin 
shoes  on  as  usual,  we  had  better  come  out  of  this." 

"As  we  ladies  happen  to  have  our  boots  on,"  said 
Marian,  "  we  shall  stay  as  long  as  we  like." 

Nevertheless,  they  soon  turned  homeward,  and  as 
the  path  was  narrow,  they  walked  in  pairs.  The  clergy- 
man, with  Constance,  led  the  way.  Lord  Jasper  fol- 
lowed with  Elinor.  Conolly  and  Marian  came  last. 

"  Does  that  young  man — Mr.  Conolly — live  at  the 
Hall  ?  "  was  the  Rev.  George's  first  remark  to  Constance. 

"  No.  He  has  rooms  in  Rose  Cottage,  that  little  place 
on  Quilter's  farm." 

"  Ha !     Then  he  is  very  well  off  here." 

"A  great  deal  too  well  off.  Jasper  allows  him  to  speak 
to  him  as  though  he  were  an  equal.  However,  I  suppose 
Jasper  knows  his  own  business  best." 

"  I  have  observed  that  he  is  rather  disposed  to  presume 
upon  any  encouragement  he  receives.  It  is  a  bad  sign  in 
a  young  man,  and  one,  I  fear,  that  will  greatly  interfere 
with  his  prospects." 

"  He  is  an  American,  and  I  suppose  thinks  it  a  fine 
thing  to  be  republican.  But  it  is  Jasper's  fault.  He 
spoils  him.  He  once  wanted  to  have  him  in  the  draw- 
ing-room in  the  evenings  to  play  accompaniments;  but 
mamma  positively  refused  to  allow  it.  Jasper  is  exces- 
sively obstinate,  and  though  he  did  not  make  a  fuss,  he 

92 


The  Irrational  Knot 

got  quite  a  habit  of  going  over  to  Rose  Cottage  and 
spending  his  evenings  there  singing  and  playing.  Every- 
body about  the  place  used  to  notice  it.  Mamma  was 
greatly  disgusted." 

"  Do  you  find  him  unpleasant — personally,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  I !  Oh  dear,  no !  I  should  never  dream  of  speaking 
to  him.  His  presence  is  unpleasant,  because  he  exercises 
a  bad  influence  on  Jasper;  so  I  wish,  on  that  account 
alone,  that  he  would  go." 

"  I  trust  Marian  is  careful  to  limit  her  intercourse 
with  him  as  much  as  possible." 

"  Well,  Marian  learns  electricity  from  him ;  and  of 
course  that  makes  a  difference.  I  do  not  care  about 
such  things;  and  I  never  go  into  the  laboratory  when 
he  is  there ;  so  I  do  not  know  whether  Marian  lets  him  be 
familiar  with  her  or  not.  She  is  rather  easygoing;  and 
he  is  insufferably  conceited.  However,  if  she  wants  to 
learn  electricity,  I  suppose  she  must  put  up  with  him. 
He  is  no  worse,  after  all,  than  the  rest  of  the  people  one 
has  to  learn  things  from.  They  are  all  impossible." 

"  It  is  a  strange  fancy  of  the  girls,  to  study  science." 

"  I  am  sure  I  dont  know  why  they  do  it.  It  is  great 
nonsense  for  Jasper  to  do  it,  either.  He  will  never 
keep  up  his  position  properly  until  he  shuts  up  that 
stupid  workshop.  He  ought  to  hunt  and  shoot  and  en- 
tertain a  great  deal  more  than  he  does.  It  is  very  hard 
on  us,  for  we  are  altogether  in  Jasper's  hands  for  such 
matters.  I  think  he  is  very  foolish." 

"  Not  foolish.  Dont  say  that.  Excuse  my  giving  you 
a  little  lecture ;  but  it  is  not  right  to  speak,  even  without 
thought,  of  your  brother  as  a  fool.  No  doubt  he  is  a 
little  injudicious ;  but  all  men  are  not  called  to  the  same 
pursuits." 

93 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"If  people  have  a  certain  position,  they  ought  to  make 
up  their  minds  to  the  duties  of  their  position,  whether 
they  are  called  to  them  or  not." 

The  Rev.  George,  missing  the  deference  with  which 
ladies  not  related  to  him  usually  received  his  admoni- 
tions, changed  the  subject. 

Meanwhile,  Conolly  and  Marian,  walking  more  slowly 
than  the  rest,  had  fallen  far  behind.  They  had  been 
silent  at  first.  She  seemed  to  be  in  trouble.  At  last, 
after  some  wistful  glances  at  him,  she  said : 

"  Have  you  resolved  to  go  to  London  to-morrow ;  or 
will  you  wait  until  Friday  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  Miss  Lind.  Can  I  do  anything  for  you 
in  town  ?  " 

Marian  hesitated  painfully. 

"  Do  not  mind  giving  me  plenty  of  bother,"  he  said. 
"  I  am  so  accustomed  to  superintend  the  transit  of  ma- 
chines as  cumbersome  as  trunks  and  as  fragile  as  bonnet 
boxes,  that  the  care  of  a  houseful  of  ordinary  luggage 
would  be  a  mere  amusement  for  me." 

"  Thank  you ;  but  it  is  not  that.  I  was  only  thinking 

Are  you  likely  to  see  my  cousin,  Mr.  Marmaduke 

Lind,  whilst  you  are  in  London  ?  " 

"  N — no.  Unless  I  call  upon  him,  which  I  have  no 
excuse  for  doing." 

"  Oh !     I  thought  you  knew  him." 

"  I  met  him  at  that  concert." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  in  the  habit  of  going  about 
with  him.  At  least,  I  understood  him  one  day  to  say 
that  you  had  been  to  the  theatre  together." 

"  So  we  were ;  but  only  once.  We  went  there  after 
the  concert,  and  I  have  never  seen  him  since." 

M  Oh,  indeed !     I  quite  mistook." 

94 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  If  you  have  any  particular  reason  for  wishing  me  to 
see  him,  I  will.  It  will  be  all  right  if  I  have  a  message 
from  you.  Shall  I  call  on  him  ?  It  will  be  no  trouble  to 
me." 

"  No,  oh  no.  I  wanted — it  was  something  that  could 
only  be  told  to  him  indirectly  by  an  intimate  friend — by 
some  one  with  influence  over  him.  More  a  hint  than 
anything  else.  But  it  does  not  matter.  At  least,  it  can- 
not be  helped." 

Conolly  did  not  speak  until  they  had  gone  some  thirty 
yards  or  so  in  silence.  Then  he  said :  "  If  the  matter  is 
of  serious  importance  to  you,  Miss  Lind,  I  think  I  can 
manage  to  have  a  message  conveyed  to  him  by  a  person 
who  has  influence  over  him.  I  am  not  absolutely  cer- 
tain that  I  can ;  but  probably  I  shall  succeed  without  any 
great  difficulty." 

Marian  looked  at  him  in  some  surprise.  "  I  hardly 
know  what  I  ought  to  do,"  she  said,  doubtfully. 

"  Then  do  nothing,"  said  Conolly  bluntly.  "  Or,  if 
you  want  anything  said  to  this  gentleman,  write  to  him 
yourself." 

"  But  I  dont  know  his  address,  and  my  brother  says 
I  ought  not  to  write  to  him.  I  dont  think  I  ought,  either ; 
but  I  want  him  to  be  told  something  that  may  prevent  a 
great  deal  of  unhappiness.  It  seems  so  unfeeling  to 
sit  down  quietly  and  say,  '  It  is  not  my  business  to  inter- 
fere,' when  the  mischief  might  so  easily  be  prevented." 

"  I  advise  you  to  be  very  cautious,  Miss  Lind.  Taking 
care  of  other  people's  happiness  is  thankless  and  danger- 
ous. You  dont  know  your  cousin's  address,  you  say  ?  " 

"  No.    I  thought  you  did." 

Conolly  shook  his  head.  "Who  does  know  it?"  he 
said. 

95 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  My  brother  George  does ;  but  he  refused  to  tell  me. 
I  shall  not  ask  him  again." 

"  Of  course  not.  I  can  find  it  out  for  you.  But  of 
what  use  will  that  be,  since  you  think  you  ought  not  to 
write  to  him  ?  " 

"  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Conolly,  that  if  it  only  concerned 
myself,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  tell  you  the  whole  story, 
and  ask  your  advice.  I  feel  sure  you  would  shew  me 
what  was  right.  But  this  is  a  matter  which  concerns 
other  people  only." 

"  Then  you  have  my  advice  without  telling  me.  Dont 
meddle  in  it." 

"  But—" 

"But  what?" 

"After  all,  what  I  wish  to  do  could  not  possibly  bring 
about  mischief.  If  Marmaduke  could  be  given  a  hint  to 
come  down  here  at  once — he  has  been  invited,  and  is 
putting  off  his  visit  from  week  to  week — it  would  be 
sufficient.  He  will  get  into  trouble  if  he  makes  any 
more  excuses.  And  he  can  set  everything  right  by  com- 
ing down  now." 

"Are  you  sure  you  dont  mean  only  that  he  can  smooth 
matters  over  for  the  present  ?  " 

"  No,  you  mistake.  It  is  not  so  much  to  smooth 
matters  over  as  to  rescue  him  from  a  bad  influence  that 
is  ruining  him.  There  is  a  person  in  London  from  whom 
he  must  be  got  away  at  all  hazards.  If  you  only  knew — 
I  wish  you  knew." 

"  Perhaps  I  know  more  than  you  suppose.  Come,  Miss 
Lind,  let  us  understand  one  another.  Your  family  want 
your  cousin  to  marry  Lady  Constance.  I  know  that. 
She  does  not  object.  I  know  that  too.  He  does." 

96 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Marian,  "  you  are  wrong.  He  does 
not." 

"Anyhow,"  continued  Conolly,  "  he  acts  with  a  certain 
degree  of  indifference  toward  her — keeps  away  at  pres- 
ent, for  instance.  I  infer  that  the  bad  influence  you  have 
mentioned  is  the  cause  of  his  remissness." 

"  Yes,  you  are  right ;  only,  looking  at  it  all  from  without 
as  you  do,  you  are  mistaken  as  to  Marmaduke's  charac- 
ter. He  is  easily  led  away,  and  very  careless  about  the 
little  attentions  that  weigh  so  much  with  women;  but  he 
is  thoroughly  honorable,  and  incapable  of  trifling  with 
Lady  Constance.  Unfortunately,  he  is  easily  imposed 
on,  and  impatient  of  company  in  which  he  cannot  be  a 
little  uproarious.  I  fear  that  somebody  has  taken  ad- 
vantage of  this  part  of  his  character  to  establish  a  great 
ascendency  over  him.  I  " — here  Marian  became  nervous, 
and  controlled  her  voice  with  difficulty — "  I  saw  this 
person  once  in  a  theatre;  and  I  can  imagine  how  she 
would  fascinate  Marmaduke.  She  was  so  clever,  so 
handsome,  and — and  so  utterly  abominable.  I  was  angry 
with  Duke  for  bringing  us  to  the  place;  and  I  remember 
now  that  he  was  angry  with  me  because  I  said  she  made 
me  shudder." 

"  Utterly  abominable  is  a  strong  thing  for  one  woman 
to  say  of  another,"  said  Conolly,  with  a  certain  sternness. 
"  However,  I  can  understand  your  having  that  feeling 
about  her.  I  know  her;  and  it  is  through  her  that  I 
hope  to  find  out  his  address  for  you." 

"  But  her  address  is  his  address  now,  Mr.  Conolly.  I 
think  it  is  somewhere  in  West  Kensington." 

Conolly  stopped,  and  turned  upon  her  so  suddenly  that 
she  recoiled  a  step,  frightened. 

"  Since  when,  pray  ?  " 

97 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  Very  lately,  I  think.    I  do  not  know." 

They  neither  moved  nor  spoke  for  some  moments: 
she  earnestly  regretting  that  she  had  lingered  so  far  be- 
hind her  companions  in  the  terrible  darkness.  He  walked 
on  at  last  faster  than  before.  No  more  words  passed 
between  them  until  they  came  out  into  the  moonlight 
close  to  the  veranda.  Then  he  stopped  again,  and  took 
off  his  hat. 

"  Permit  me  to  leave  you  now,"  he  said,  with  an 
artificial  politeness  worthy  of  Douglas  himself.  •  "  Good- 
night." 

"  Good-night,"  faltered  Marian. 

He  walked  gravely  away.  Marian  hurried  into  the 
veranda,  where  she  found  Jasper  and  Elinor.  The  other 
couple  had  gone  into  the  drawing-room. 

"  Hallo !  "  said  Jasper,  "  where  is  Conolly  ?  I  want 
to  say  a  word  to  him  before  he  goes." 

"  He  has  just  gone,"  said  Marian,  pointing  across  the 
'lawn.  Jasper  immediately  ran  out  in  the  direction  indi- 
cated, and  left  the  two  cousins  alone  together. 

"  Well,  Marian,"  said  Elinor,  "  do  you  know  that  you 
have  taken  more  than  quarter  of  an  hour  longer  to 
come  from  the  plantation  than  we  did,  and  that  you  look 
quite  scared?  Our  sweet  Constance,  as  the  parson  calls 
her,  has  been  making  some  kind  remarks  about  it." 

"  Do  I  look  disturbed  ?  I  hope  Auntie  wont  notice  it. 
J  wish  I  could  go  straight  to  bed  without  seeing  anybody." 

•"  Why  ?    What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

-<<  I  will  tell  you  to-night  when  you  come  in  to  me.  I 
,am  disgusted  with  myself;  and  I  think  Conolly  is  mad." 

"  Mad !  " 

''  On  my  word,  I  think  Conolly  has  gone  mad,"  .said 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Lord  Jasper,  returning  at  this  moment  out  of  breath  and 
laughing. 

Elinor,  startled,  glanced  at  Marian. 

"  He  was  walking  quite  soberly  toward  the  fence  of 
the  yellow  field  when  I  caught  sight  of  him.  Just  as  I 
was  about  to  hail  him,  he  started  off  and  cleared  the 
fence  at  a  running  jump.  He  walked  away  at  a  furious 
rate,  swinging  his  arms  about,  and  laughing  as  if  he  was 
enjoying  some  uncommonly  good  joke.  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  did  not  see  him  dance  a  hornpipe;  but  as  it  is  so 
dark  I  wont  swear  to  that." 

"  You  had  better  not,"  said  Elinor,  sceptically.  "  Let 
us  go  in ;  and  pray  do  not  encoura  -e  George  to  talk. 
I  have  a  headache,  and  want  to  go  to  ued." 

"  You  have  been  in  very  good  spirits,  considering  your 
headache,"  he  replied,  in  the  same  incredulous  tone.  "  It 
has  come  on  rather  suddenly,  has  it  not  ?  " 

When  they  went  into  the  drawing-room  they  found 
that  Constance  had  awakened  her  mother,  and  had  al- 
ready given  her  an  account  of  their  walk.  Jasper  added 
a  description  of  what  he  had  just  witnessed.  "  I  have 
not  laughed  so  much  for  a  long  time,"  he  said,  in  con- 
clusion. "  He  is  usually  such  a  steady  sort  of  fellow." 

"  I  see  nothing  very  amusing  in  the  antics  of  a  drunken 
workman,"  said  the  Countess.  "  How  you  could  have 
left  Marian  in  his  care  even  for  a  moment  I  am  at 
a  loss  to  conceive." 

"  He  was  not  drunk,  indeed,"  said  Marian. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Jasper,  rather  indignantly.  "  I 
was  walking  with  him  for  some  time  before  we  met  the 
girls.  You  are  very  pale,  Marian.  Have  you  also  a 
headache  ?  " 

99 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  have  been  playing  tennis  all  day ;  and  I  am  quite 
tired  out." 

Soon  afterward,  when  Marian  was  in  bed,  and  Miss 
McQuinch,  according  to  a  nightly  custom  of  theirs,  was 
seated  on  the  coverlet  with  her  knees  doubled  up  to  her 
chin  inside  her  bedgown,  they  discussed  the  adventure 
very  earnestly. 

"  Dont  understand  him  at  all,  I  confess,"  said  Elinor, 
when  Marian  had  related  what  had  passed  in  the  plan- 
tation. "  Wasnt  it  rather  rash  to  make  a  confidant  of 
him  in  such  a  delicate  matter?  " 

"  That  is  what  makes  me  feel  so  utterly  ashamed.  He 
might  have  known  that  I  only  wanted  to  do  good.  I 
thought  he  was  so  entirely  above  false  delicacy." 

"  I  dont  mean  that.  How  do  you  know  that  the  story  is 
true?  You  only  have  it  from  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax's  let- 
ter; and  she  is  perhaps  the  greatest  liar  in  the  world." 

"  Oh,  Nelly,  you  ought  not  to  talk  so  strongly  about 
people.  She  would  never  venture  to  tell  me  a  made-up 
tale  about  Marmaduke." 

"  In  my  opinion,  she  would  tell  anybody  anything  for 
the  sake  of  using  her  tongue  or  pen." 

"  It  is  so  hard  to  know  what  to  do.  There  was  no- 
body whom  I  could  trust,  was  there  ?  Jasper  has  always 
been  against  Marmaduke;  and  Constance,  of  course,  was 
out  of  the  question.  There  was  Auntie,  but  I  did  not 
like  to  tell  her." 

"  Because  she  is  an  evil-minded  old  Jezebel,  whom  no 
nice  woman  would  talk  to  on  such  a  subject,"  said 
Elinor,  giving  the  bed  a  kick  with  her  heel. 

"  Hush,  Nelly.  I  am  always  in  terror  lest  you  should 
say  something  like  that  before  other  people,  out  of  sheer 
habit." 

100 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Never  fear.  Well,  you  have  done  the  best  you  could. 
No  use  regretting  what  cannot  be  recalled.  You  cannot 
have  the  security  of  conventionality  along  with  the  self- 
respect  of  sincerity.  By  the  bye,  do  you  remember  that 
Jasper  and  his  fond  mamma  and  George  had  a  family 
council  after  dinner  ?  You  may  be  sure  that  George  has 
told  them  everything." 

"  What !  Then  my  wretched  attempt  to  have  Mar- 
maduke  warned  was  useless.  Oh,  Nelly,  this  is  too  bad. 
Do  you  really  think  so?  When  I  told  him  before  din- 
ner what  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  wrote,  he  only  said  he 
feared  it  was  true,  and  refused  to  give  me  the  address." 

"And  so  threw  you  back  on  Conolly.  I  am  glad  the 
responsibility  rests  with  George.  He  knew  very  well 
that  it  was  true;  for  he  had  only  just  been  telling 
Jasper.  Jasper  told  me  as  much  in  the  plantation. 
Master  Georgy  has  no  right  to  be  your  brother.  He 
is  worse  than  a  dissenter.  Dissenters  try  to  be  gentle- 
men; but  George  has  no  misgivings  about  himself  on 
that  score ;  so  he  gives  his  undivided  energy  to  his 
efforts  to  be  parsonic.  He  is  an  arrant  hypocrite." 

"  I  dont  think  he  is  a  hypocrite.  I  think  he  sincerely 
believes  that  his  duty  to  the  Church  requires  him  to 
behave  as  he  does." 

"  Then  he  is  a  donkey,  which  is  worse." 

"  I  wish  he  were  more  natural  in  his  manner." 

"  He  is  natural  enough.  It  is  always  the  same  with 
parsons :  '  it  is  their  nature  to.'  Good-night.  Men  are 
all  the  same,  my  dear,  all  the  same." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Never  mind.     Good-night." 


101 


A  LITTLE  removed  from  a  pretty  road  in  West 
Kensington,  and  communicating  with  it  by  a 
shrubbery  and  an  iron  gate,  there  stood  at  this 
time  a  detached  villa  called  Laurel  Grove.  On  the  op- 
posite side  were  pairs  of  recently  built  houses,  many  of 
them  still  unlet.  These,  without  depriving  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  its  suburban  quietude,  forbade  any  feeling 
of  rustic  seclusion,  and  so  made  it  agreeable  to  Susanna 
Conolly,  who  lived  at  Laurel  Grove  with  Marmaduke 
Lind. 

One  morning  in  September  they  were  at  breakfast 
together.  Beside  each  was  a  pile  of  letters.  Marma- 
duke deferred  opening  his  until  his  hunger  was  satisfied ; 
but  Susanna,  after  pouring  out  tea  for  him,  seized  the 
uppermost  envelope,  thrust  her  little  finger  under  the 
flap,  and  burst  it  open. 

"  Hm,"  she  said.  "  First  rehearsal  next  Monday. 
Here  he  is  at  me  again  to  make  the  engagement  renew- 
able after  Christmas.  What  an  old  fool  he  must  be  not 
to  guess  why  I  dont  want  to  be  engaged  next  spring! 
Just  look  at  the  Times,  Bob,  and  see  if  the  piece  is  ad- 
vertized yet." 

"  I  should  think  so,  by  Jupiter,"  said  Marmaduke,  pa- 
tiently interrupting  his  meal  to  open  the  newspaper. 
"  Here  is  a  separate  advertisement  for  everybody.  '  The 
latest  Parisian  success.  La  petite  Maison  du  Roi. 
Music  by  M.  de  Jongleur.  Mr.  Faulkner  has  the  honor 
to  announce  that  an  adaptation  by  Mr.  Cribbs  of  M.  de 
Jongleur's  opera  bouffe  La  petite  Maison  du  Roi,  en- 

102 


The   Irrational    Knot 

titled  King  Lewis  on  the  lewis  ' — what  the  deuce  does1 
that  mean  ?  " 

"  On  the  loose,  of  course." 

"  But  it  is  spelt  1-e-w oh !  its  a  pun.  What  an  in- 
fernal piece  of  idiocy !  Then  it  goes  on  as  usual,  except 
that  each  name  in  the  cast  has  a  separate  line  of  large 
print.  Here  you  are:  '  Lalage  Virtue  as  Madame  Du- 
barry' " 

"  Is  that  at  the  top  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Before  Rose  Stella?" 

"  Yes.  Why ! — I  didnt  notice  it  before — you  are  down 
fifteen  times !  Every  alternate  space  has  your  name  over 
again.  '  Lalage  Virtue  as  Madame  Dubarry.  Fred 
Smith  as  Louis  XV.  Lalage  Virtue  as  the  Dubarry. 
Felix  Sumner  as  the  Due  de  Richelieu.  Lalage  Virtue 
as  la  belle  Jeanneton'  By  the  way,  that  is  all  rot.  Car- 
dinal Richelieu  died  four  or  five  hundred  years  before 
Madame  Dubarry  was  born." 

"  Let  me  see  the  paper.  I  see  they  have  given  Rose 
Stella  the  last  line  with  a  big  AND  before  it.  No  matter. 
She  is  down  only  once ;  and  I  am  down  fifteen  times." 

"  I  wonder  what  all  these  letters  of  mine  are  about! 
This  is  a  bill,  of  course.  The  West  Kensington  Wine 
Company.  Whew!  We  are  getting  through  the  cham- 
pagne at  the  rate  of  about  thirty  pounds  a  month,  not 
counting  what  we  pay  for  when  we  dine  in  town." 

"  Well,  what  matter !  Champagne  does  nobody  any 
harm;  and  I  get  awfully  low  without  it." 

"All  right,  my  dear.  So  long  as  you  please  yourself, 
and  dont  injure  your  health,  I  dont  care.  Here's  a  letter 
of  yours  put  among  mine  by  mistake.  It  has  been  for- 
warded from  your  old  diggings  at  Lambeth." 

103 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  It's  from  Ned,"  said  Susanna,  turning  pale.  "  He 
must  be  coming  home,  or  he  would  not  write.  Yes,  he 
is.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"What  does  he  say?"  said  Marmaduke,  taking  the 
letter  from  her.  " '  Back  at  6  on  Wednesday  evening. 
Have  high  tea.  N.  C!  Short  and  sweet!  Well,  he 
will  not  turn  up  til  to-morrow,  at  all  events,  even  if  he 
knows  the  address,  which  of  course  he  doesnt." 

"  He  knows  nothing.  His  note  shews  that.  What 
will  he  do  when  he  finds  me  gone?  He  may  get  the 
address  at  the  post-office,  where  I  told  them  to  send  on 
my  letters.  The  landlady  has  most  likely  found  out  for 
her  own  information.  There  is  no  mistake  about  it," 
said  Susanna,  rising  and  walking  to  the  window :  "  I 
am  in  a  regular  funk  about  him.  I  have  half  a  mind  to 
go  back  to  Lambeth  and  meet  him.  I  could  let  the 
murder  out  gradually,  or,  perhaps,  get  him  off  to  the 
country  again  before  he  discovers  anything." 

"  Go  back !  oh  no,  nonsense !  The  worst  he  can  do 
is  to  cut  you — and  a  good  job  too." 

"  I  wish  he  would.  It  would  be  a  relief  to  me  at 
present  to  know  for  certain  that  he  would." 

"  He  cant  be  so  very  thin-skinned  as  you  fancy,  con- 
sidering the  time  you  have  been  on  the  stage." 

"  There's  nothing  wrong  in  being  on  the  stage. 
There's  nothing  wrong  in  being  here  either,  in  spite 
of  Society.  After  all,  what  do  I  care  about  Ned,  or 
anybody  else?  He  always  went  his  own  way  when  it 
suited  him;  and  he  has  no  right  to  complain  if  I  go 
mine.  Let  him  come  if  he  likes :  he  will  not  get  much 
satisfaction  from  me."  Susanna  sat  down  again,  and 
drank  some  tea,  partly  defiant,  partly  disconsolate. 

104 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Dont  think  any  more  about  it,"  said  Marmaduke. 
"  He  wont  come." 

"  Oh,  let  him,  if  he  likes,"  said  Susanna,  impatiently. 
Marmaduke  did  not  quite  sympathize  with  her  sudden 
recklessness.  He  hoped  that  Conolly  would  have  the 
good  sense  to  keep  away. 

"  Look  here,  Bob,"  said  she,  when  they  had  finished 
breakfast.  "  Let  us  go  somewhere  to-day.  I  feel  aw- 
fully low.  Let  us  have  a  turn  up  the  river." 

"All  right,"  said  Marmaduke,  with  alacrity.  "  What- 
ever you  please.  How  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"Anyhow.  Let  us  go  to  Hampton  by  train.  When 
we  get  there  we  can  settle  what  to  do  afterward.  Can 
you  come  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  whenever  you  are  ready." 

"  Then  I  will  run  up-stairs  and  dress.  Go  out  and 
amuse  yourself  with  that  blessed  old  lawn-mower  until  I 
come." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  will,"  said  Marmaduke,  seriously. 
"  That  plot  near  the  gate  wants  a  trimming  badly." 

"  What  a  silly  old  chap  you  are,  Bob !  "  she  said, 
stopping  to  kiss  him  on  each  cheek  as  she  left  the  room. 
Marmaduke  had  become  attached  to  the  pursuit  of  gar- 
dening since  his  domestication.  He  put  on  his  hat ;  went 
out ;  and  set  to  work  on  the  plot  near  the  gate.  The  sun 
was  shining  brightly ;  and  when  he  had  taken  a  few  turns 
with  the  machine  he  stopped,  raising  his  face  to  the  breeze, 
and  saw  Conolly  standing  so  close  to  him  that  he  started 
backward,  and  made  a  vague  movement  as  if  to  ward 
off  a  blow.  Conolly,  who  seemed  amused  by  the  mow- 
ing, said  quietly :  "  That  machine  wants  oiling :  the  clat- 
ter prevented  you  from  hearing  me  come.  I  have  just 

105 


The   Irrational   Knot 

returned  from  Carbury  Towers.  Miss  Lind  is  staying 
there;  and  she  has  asked  me  to  give  you  a  message." 

This  speech  perplexed  Marmaduke.  He  inferred  from 
it  that  Conolly  was  ignorant  of  Susanna's  proceedings, 
but  he  had  not  sufficient  effrontery  to  welcome  him  un- 
concernedly at  once.  So  he  stood  still  and  stared  at  him. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  startled  you,"  Conolly  went  on, 
politely.  "  I  found  the  gate  unlocked,  and  thought  it 
would  be  an  unnecessary  waste  of  time  to  ring  the  bell. 
You  have  a  charming  little  place  here." 

"Yes,  it's  a  pretty  little  place,  isnt  it?"  said  Marma- 
duke. "A — wont  you  come  in  and  have  a — excuse  my 
bringing  you  round  this  way,  will  you?  My  snuggery 
is  at  the  back  of  the  house." 

"Thank  you;  but  I  had  rather  not  go  in.  I  have  a 
great  deal  of  business  to  do  in  town  to-day;  so  I  shall 
just  discharge  my  commission  and  go." 

"At  any  rate,  come  into  the  shade,"  said  Marmaduke, 
glancing  uneasily  toward  the  windows  of  the  house. 
"  This  open  place  is  enough  to  give  us  sunstroke." 

Conolly  followed  him  to  a  secluded  part  of  the  shrub- 
bery, where  they  sat  down  on  a  bench. 

"  Is  there  anything  up  ? "  said  Marmaduke,  much 
oppressed. 

"Will  you  excuse  my  speaking  without  ceremony?" 

"  Oh,  certainly.     Fire  away !  " 

"  Thank  you.  I  must  then  tell  you  that  the  relations 
between  you  and  Lady  Constance  are  a  source  of  anxiety 
to  her  brother.  You  know  the  way  men  feel  bound  to 
look  after  their  sisters.  You  have,  I  believe,  sisters  of 
your  own  ?  " 

Marmaduke  nodded,  and  stole  a  doubtful  glance  at 
Conolly's  face. 

106 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  It  appears  that  Lord  Carbury  has  all  along  consid- 
ered your  courtship  too  cool  to  be  genuine.  In  this  view 
he  was  quite  unsupported,  the  Countess  being  strongly 
in  your  favor,  and  the  young  lady  devoted  to  you." 

"  Well,  I  knew  all  that.  At  least,  I  suspected  it.  What 
is  up  now  ?  " 

"  This.  The  fact  of  your  having  taken  a  villa  here 
has  reached  the  ears  of  the  family  at  Carbury.  They  are, 
not  unnaturally,  curious  to  know  what  use  a  bachelor  can 
have  for  such  an  establishment." 

"  But  I  have  my  rooms  in  Clarges  Street  still.  This 
is  not  my  house.  It  was  taken  for  another  person." 

"  Precisely  what  they  seem  to  think.  But,  to  be  brief 
with  you,  Miss  Lind  thinks  that  unless  you  wish  to  break 
with  the  Earl,  and  quarrel  with  your  family,  you  should 
go  down  to  Towers  Cottage  at  once." 

"  But  I  cant  go  away  just  now.     There  are  reasons." 

"  Miss  Lind  is  fully  acquainted  with  your  reasons. 
They  are  her  reasons  for  wishing  you  to  leave  London 
immediately.  And  now,  having  executed  my  commis- 
sion, I  must  ask  you  to  excuse  me.  My  time  is  much 
occupied." 

"  Well,  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  coming  all 
this  way  out  of  town  to  give  me  the  straight  tip,"  said 
Marmaduke,  relieved  at  the  prospect  of  getting  rid  of 
his  visitor  without  alluding  to  Susanna.  "  It  is  very 
good  of  you;  and  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  Jolly  place, 
Carbury  Park  is,  isnt  it  ?  How  will  the  shooting  be  ?  " 

"  First  rate,  I  am  told.  I  do  not  know  much  about  it 
myself."  They  had  risen,  and  were  strolling  along  the 
path  leading  to  the  gate. 

"  Shall  I  see  you  down  there — if  I  go  ?  " 

"  Possibly.     I  shall  have  to  go  down  for  a  day  at  least, 

107 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  get  my  luggage,  in  case  I  decide  not  to  renew  my  en- 
gagement with  Lord  Jasper." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Marmaduke.  Then,  as  they  reached 
the  gate,  he  proffered  his  hand,  in  spite  of  an  inward 
shrinking,  and  said  heartily,  "  Good-bye,  old  fellow. 
Youre  looking  as  well  as  possible." 

Conolly  took  his  hand,  and  retained  it  whilst  he  said: 
"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Lind.  I  am  quite  well,  thank  you.  If 
I  may  ask — how  is  Susanna  ?  " 

Marmaduke  was  prevented  by  a  spasm  of  the  throat 
from  replying.  Before  he  recovered,  Susanna  herself, 
attired  for  her  proposed  trip  to  Hampton,  emerged  from 
the  shrubbery  and  stood  before  them,  confounded.  Con- 
oily,  still  wearing  the  cordial  expression  with  which  he 
had  shaken  Marmaduke's  hand,  looked  at  her,  then  at 
her  protector,  and  then  at  her  again. 

"  I  have  been  admiring  the  villa,  Susanna,"  said  he, 
after  an  emphatic  silence.  "  It  is  better  than  our  place 
at  Lambeth.  You  wont  mind  my  hurrying  away:  I  have 
a  great  deal  to  do  in  town.  Good-bye.  Good-bye,  Mr. 
Lind." 

Susanna  murmured  something.  Marmaduke,  after 
making  an  effort  to  bid  his  guest  good-bye  genially, 
opened  the  gate,  and  stood  for  a  minute  watching  him 
as  he  strode  away. 

"  What  does  he  care  what  becomes  of  me,  the  selfish 
brute!  "  cried  Susanna,  passionately. 

"  He  didnt  complain:  he  has  nothing  to  complain  of," 
said  Marmaduke.  "Anyhow,  why  didnt  he  stay  at  home 
and  look  after  you?  By  George,  Susanna,  he  is  the 
coolest  card  I  ever  came  across." 

"  What  brought  him  here?"  she  demanded,  vehemently. 

108 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  That  reminds  me.  I  am  afraid  I  must  go  down  to 
Carbury  for  a  few  days." 

"And  what  am  I  to  do  here  alone  ?  Are  you  going  to 
leave  me  too  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  cannot  be  in  two  places  at  the  same  time.  I 
suppose  you  can  manage  to  get  on  without  me  for  a  few 
days." 

"  I  will  go  home.  I  can  get  on  without  you  altogether. 
I  will  go  home." 

"  Come,  Susanna!  what  is  the  use  of  kicking  up  a  row? 
I  cant  afford  to  quarrel  with  all  my  people  because  you 
choose  to  be  unreasonable." 

"  What  do  I  care  about  your  people,  or  about  you 
either?" 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Marmaduke,  offended,  "  you 
can  go  home  if  you  like.  Perhaps  your  brother  appre- 
ciates this  sort  of  thing.  I  dont." 

"Ah,  you  coward!  You  taunt  me  because  you  think 
I  have  no  home.  Do  you  flatter  yourself  that  I  am  de- 
pendent on  you  ?  " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  said  Marmaduke,  fiercely. 
"  Dont  you  turn  on  me  in  that  fashion.  Keep  your 
temper  if  you  want  me  to  keep  mine." 

"  You  have  ruined  me,"  said  Susanna,  sitting  down 
on  the  grass,  and  beginning  to  cry. 

"  Oh,  upon  my  soul,  this  is  too  much,"  said  Marma- 
duke, with  disgust.  "  Get  up  out  of  that  and  dont  make 
a  fool  of  yourself.  Ruined  indeed !  Will  you  get  up  ?  " 

"  No !  "  screamed  Susanna. 

"  Then  stay  where  you  are  and  be  damned,"  retorted 
Marmaduke,  turning  on  his  heel  and  walking  toward  the 
house.  In  the  hall  he  met  a  maid  carrying  an  empty 
champagne  bottle  and  goblet. 

109 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Missis  is  looking  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  maid. 

"All  right,"  said  Marmaduke,  "  I  have  seen  her. 
Listen  to  me.  I  am  going  to  the  country.  My  man 
Mason  will  come  here  to-day  to  pack  up  my  traps,  and 
bring  them  after  me.  You  had  better  take  a  note  of 
my  address  from  the  card  in  the  strap  of  my  valise." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  maid.     "Any  message  for  missis  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Marmaduke.  He  then  changed  his  coat 
and  hat,  and  went  out  again.  As  he  approached  the  gate 
he  met  Susanna,  who  had  risen  and  was  walking  toward 
the  house. 

"  I  am  going  to  Carbury,"  he  said.  "  I  dont  know 
when  I  shall  be  back." 

She  passed  on  disdainfully,  as  if  she  had  not  heard 
him. 


110 


CHAPTER  VI 

THREE  days  later  Lord  Carbury  came  to  luncheon 
with  a  letter  in  his  hand.  Marian  had  not  yet 
come  in;  and  the  Rev.  George  was  absent,  his 
place  being  filled  by  Marmaduke. 

"  Good  news  for  you  and  Constance,  mother." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  said  the  Countess,  smiling. 

"  Yes.  Conolly  is  coming  down  this  afternoon  to  col- 
lect his  traps  and  leave  you  forever." 

"  Really,  Jasper,  you  exaggerate  Mr.  Conolly's  impor- 
tance. Intelligence  of  his  movements  can  hardly  be  news 
— good  or  bad — either  to  me  or  to  Constance." 

"  I  am  glad  he  is  going,"  said  Constance,  "  for  Jasper's 
sake." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Jasper.  "  I  thought  you  would 
be.  He  will  be  a  great  loss  to  me." 

"  Nonsense!"  said  the  Countess.  "  If  another  work- 
man is  needed,  another  can  easily  be  had." 

"  If  I  can  be  of  any  assistance  to  you,  old  man,"  said 
Marmaduke,  "  make  what  use  of  me  you  like.  I  picked 
up  something  about  the  business  yesterday." 

"  Yes,"  said  Elinor.  "  While  you  were  away,  Jasper, 
he  went  to  the  laboratory  with  Constance,  and  fired  off 
a  brass  cannon  with  your  new  pile  until  he  had  used  up 
all  the  gunpowder  and  spoiled  the  panels  of  the  door. 
That  is  what  he  calls  picking  up  something  about  the 
business." 

"  Nothing  like  experiment  for  convincing  you  of  the 

III 


The   Irrational   Knot 

power  of  electricity,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  Is  there, 
Conny?" 

"  It's  very  wonderful;  but  I  hate  shots." 

"  Where  is  Marian  ?  "  said  Lady  Carbury. 

"  I  left  her  in  the  summer-house  in  the  fruit  garden," 
said  Elinor.  "  She  was  reading." 

"  She  must  have  forgotten  the  hour,"  said  the  Count- 
ess. "  She  has  been  moping,  I  think,  for  the  last  few 
days.  I  hope  she  is  not  unwell.  But  she  would  never 
stay  away  from  luncheon  intentionally.  I  shall  send  for 
her." 

"  I'll  go,"  said  Marmaduke,  eagerly. 

"  No,  no,  Duke.  You  must  not  leave  the  table.  I 
will  send  a  servant." 

"  I  will  fetch  her  here  in  half  the  time  that  any 
servant  will.  Poor  Marian,  why  shouldnt  she  have  her 
lunch?  I  shall  be  back  in  a  jiffy." 

"  What  a  restless,  extraordinary  creature  he  is !  "  said 
Lady  Carbury,  displeased,  as  Marmaduke  hastily  left 
the  room.  "  The  idea  of  a  man  leaving  the  table  in  that 
way!" 

"  I  suspect  he  has  his  reasons,"  said  Elinor. 

"  I  think  it  is  a  perfectly  natural  thing  for  him  to  do," 
said  Constance,  pettishly.  "  I  see  nothing  extraordinary 
in  it." 

Marmaduke  found  Marian  reading  in  the  summer- 
house  in  the  fruit  garden.  She  looked  at  him  in  lazy 
surprise  as  he  seated  himself  opposite  to  her  at  the  table. 

"  This  is  the  first  chance  I've  had  of  talking  to  you 
privately  since  I  came  down,"  he  said.  "  I  believe  you 
have  been  keeping  out  of  my  way  on  purpose." 

"  Well,  I  concluded  that  you  wanted  as  many  chances 

112 


The  Irrational   Knot 

as  possible  of  talking  to  some  one  else  in  private;  so  I 
gave  you  as  many  as  I  could." 

"  Yes,  you  and  the  rest  have  been  uncommonly  con- 
siderate in  that  respect:  thank  you  all  awfully.  But  I 
mean  to  have  it  out  with  you,  Miss  Marian,  now  that  I 
have  caught  you  alone." 

"  With  me !     Oh,  dear !    What  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  What  have  you  done?  I'll  tell  you  what  youve  done. 
Why  did  you  send  Conolly,  of  all  men  in  the  world,  to 
tell  me  that  I  was  in  disgrace  here  ?  " 

"  There  was  no  one  else,  Marmaduke." 

"  Well,  suppose  there  wasnt !  Suppose  there  had  been 
no  one  else  alive  on  the  earth  except  you,  and  I,  and  he, 

and  Constance,  and  Su and  Constance!  how  could  you 

have  offered  him  such  a  job  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?     WTas  there  any  special  reason " 

"Any  special  reason!  Didnt  your  common  sense  tell 
you  that  a  meeting  between  him  and  me  must  be  particu- 
larly awkward  for  both  of  us  ?  " 

"  No.  At  least  I .  Marmaduke:  I  think  you  must 

fancy  that  I  told  him  more  than  I  did.  I  did  not  know 
where  you  were;  and  as  he  was  going  to  London,  and  I 
thought  you  knew  him  well,  and  I  had  no  other  means 
of  warning  you,  I  had  to  make  use  of  him.  Jasper  will 
tell  you  how  thoroughly  trustworthy  he  is.  But  all  I 
said — and  I  really  could  not  say  less — was  that  I  was 
afraid  you  were  in  bad  company,  or  under  bad  influ- 
ence, or  something  like  that ;  and  that  I  only  wanted  you 
to  come  down  here  at  once." 

"Oh!  Indeed!  That  was  all,  was  it?  Merely  that 
I  was  in  bad  company." 

"  I  think  I  said  under  bad  influence.  I  was  told  so; 
and  I  believed  it  at  the  time.  I  hope  it's  not  true,  Mar- 


The  Irrational   Knot 

maduke.  If  it  is  not,  I  beg  your  pardon  with  all  my 
heart." 

Marmaduke  stared  very  hard  at  her  for  a  while,  and 
then  said,  with  the  emphasis  of  a  man  baffled  by  utter 
unreason :  "  Well,  I  am  damned !  "  at  which  breach  of 
good  manners  she  winced.  "  Hang  me  if  I  understand 
you,  Marian,"  he  continued,  more  mildly.  "  Of  course 
it's  not  true.  Bad  influence  is  all  bosh.  But  it  was  a 
queer  thing  to  say  to  his  face.  He  knew  very  well  you 
meant  his  sister.  Hallo!  what's  the  matter?  Are  you 
going  to  faint  ?  " 

"  No,  I Never  mind  me." 

"  Never  mind  you !  "  said  Marmaduke.  "  What  are 
you  looking  like  that  for  ?  " 

"  Because it  is  nothing :  I  only  blushed.  Dont  be 

stupid,  Duke." 

"  Blushed !  Why  dont  you  blush  red,  like  other  people, 
and  not  green  ?  Shall  I  get  you  something  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  Oh,  Duke,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  How 
could  you  be  so  heartless  as  to  leave  us  all  in  the  dark 
when  we  were  talking  about  you  before  him  every  day! 
Oh,  are  you  in  earnest,  Duke?  Pray  dont  jest  about  it. 
What  do  you  mean  by  his  sister?  I  never  knew  he  had 
one.  Who  is  she?  What  happened?  I  mean  when  you 
saw  him  ?  " 

"  Nothing  happened.  I  was  mowing  in  the  garden. 
He  just  walked  in;  bade  me  good  morning;  admired  the 
place ;  and  told  me  he  came  with  a  message  from  you 
that  things  were  getting  hot  here.  Then  he  went  off,  as 
cool  as  you  please.  He  didnt  seem  to  mind." 

"And  he  warned  you,  in  spite  of  all." 

"  More  for  your  sake  than  for  mine,  I  suspect.  He's 
rather  sweet  on  you,  isnt  he  ?  " 

114 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Oh,  Duke,  Duke,  are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself?  " 

"  Deuce  a  bit.  But  I'm  in  trouble;  and  I  want  you  to 
stand  by  me.  Look  here,  Marian,  you  have  no  non- 
sense about  you,  I  know.  I  may  tell  you  frankly  how  I 
am  situated,  maynt  I  ?  " 

Marian  loked  at  him  apprehensively,  and  said  nothing. 

"  You  see  you  will  only  mix  up  matters  worse  than 
before  unless  you  know  the  truth.  Besides,  I  offered  to 
marry  her:  upon  my  soul  I  did;  but  she  refused.  Her 
real  name  is  Susanna  Conolly:  his  sister,  worse  luck." 

"  Dont  tell  me  any  more  of  this,  Duke.     It  is  not  right." 

"  I  suppose  it's  not  right,  as  you  say.  But  what  am 
I  to  do?  I  must  tell  you;  or  you  will  go  on  making 
mischief  with  Constance." 

"As  if  I  would  tell  her!  I  promise  that  she  shall  never 
know  from  me.  Is  that  enough  ?  " 

"  No:  its  too  much.  The  plain  truth  is  that  I  dont  care 
whether  she  finds  me  out  or  not.  I  want  her  to  under- 
stand thoroughly,  once  and  for  ever,  that  I  wont  marry 
her." 

"  Marmaduke ! " 

"  Not  if  I  were  fifty  Marmadukes !  " 

"  Then  you  will  break  her  heart." 

"  Never  fear !  Her  heart  is  pretty  tough,  if  she  has 
one.  Whether  or  no,  I  am  not  going  to  have  her  forced 
on  me  by  the  Countess  or  any  one  else.  The  truth  is, 
Marian,  they  have  all  tried  to  bully  me  into  this  match. 
Constance  cant  complain." 

"  No,  not  aloud." 

"  Neither  aloud  or  alow.     I  never  proposed  to  her." 

"  Very  well,  Marmaduke :  there  is  no  use  now  in  blam- 
ing Auntie  or  excusing  yourself.  If  you  have  made  up 
your  mind,  there  is  an  end." 

"5 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  But  you  cant  make  out  that  I  am  acting  meanly, 
Marian.  Why,  I  have  everything  to  lose  by  giving 
her  up.  There  is  her  money,  and  I  suppose  I  must  pre- 
pare for  a  row  with  the  family;  unless  the  match  could 
be  dropped  quietly.  Eh  ?  " 

"And  is  that  what  you  want  me  to  manage  for  you  ?  " 

"Well .  Come,  Marian!  dont  be  savage.  I  have 

been  badly  used  in  this  affair.  They  forced  it  on  me.  I 
did  all  I  could  to  keep  out  of  it.  She  was  thrown  at  my 
head.  Besides,  I  once  really  used  to  think  I  could  settle 
down  with  her  comfortably  some  day.  I  only  found  out 
what  an  insipid  little  fool  she  was  when  I  had  a  woman 
of  sense  to  compare  her  with." 

"  Dont  say  hard  things  about  her.  I  think  you  might 
have  a  little  forbearance  towards  her  under  the  circum- 
stances." 

"  Hm !  I  dont  feel  very  forbearing.  She  has  been 
sticking  to  me  for  the  last  few  days  like  a  barnacle.  Our 
respectable  young  ladies  think  a  lot  of  themselves,  but — 
except  you  and  Nelly — I  dont  know  a  woman  in  society 
who  has  as  much  brains  in  her  whole  body  as  Susanna 
Conolly  has  in  her  little  finger  nail.  I  cant  imagine  how 
the  deuce  you  all  have  the  cheek  to  expect  men  to  talk 
to  you,  much  less  marry  you." 

"  Perhaps  there  is  something  that  honest  men  value 
more  than  brains." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  it  is.  If  it  is  something 
that  ladies  have  and  Susanna  hasnt,  it  is  not  either  good 
looks  or  good  sense.  If  it's  respectability,  that  depends 
on  what  you  consider  respectable.  If  Conny's  respect- 
able and  Susanna  isnt,  then  I  prefer  disrepu " 

"  Hush,  Duke,  you  know  you  have  no  right  to  speak  to 

116 


The   Irrational   Knot 

me  like  this.  Let  us  think  of  poor  Constance.  How  is 
she  to  be  told  the  truth  ? " 

"  Let  her  find  it  out.  I  shall  go  back  to  London  as 
soon  as  I  can;  and  the  affair  will  drop  somehow  or  an- 
other. She  will  forget  all  about  me." 

"  Happy-go-lucky  Marmaduke.  I  think  if  neglect  and 
absence  could  make  her  forget  you,  you  would  have  been 
forgotten  before  this." 

"  Yes.  You  see  you  must  admit  that  I  gave  her  no 
reason  to  suppose  I  meant  anything." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  consulted  your  own  humor  both 
in  your  neglect  and  your  attentions,  Duke.  The  more  you 
try  to  excuse  yourself,  the  more  inexcusable  your  con- 
duct appears.  I  do  not  know  how  to  advise  you.  If 
Constance  is  told,  you  may  some  day  forget  all  about 
your  present  infatuation;  and  then  a  mass  of  mischief 
and  misery  will  have  been  made  for  nothing.  If  she  is 
not  told,  you  will  be  keeping  up  a  cruel  deception  and 

wasting  her  chances  of but  she  will  never  care  for 

anybody  else." 

"  Better  do  as  I  say.  Leave  matters  alone  for  the 
present.  But  mind !  no  speculating  on  my  changing  my 
intentions.  I  wont  marry  her." 

"  I  wish  you  hadnt  told  me  about  it." 

"  Well,  Marian,  I  couldnt  help  it.  I  know,  of  course, 
that  you  only  wanted  to  make  us  all  happy;  but  you 
nursed  this  match  and  kept  it  in  Constance's  mind  as 
much  as  you  could.  Besides — though  it  was  not  your 
fault — that  mistake  about  Conolly  was  too  serious  not  to 
explain.  Dont  be  downcast:  I  am  not  blaming  you  a  bit." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  the  worst  view  of  things  is  al- 
ways the  true  one  in  this  world.  Nelly  and  Jasper  were 
right  about  you." 

117 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"Aha!  So  they  saw  what  I  felt.  You  cant  say  I  did 
not  make  my  intentions  plain  enough  to  every  unbiassed 
person.  The  Countess  was  determined  to  get  Constance 
off  her  hands;  Constance  was  determined  to  have  me;  and 
you  were  determined  to  stick  up  for  your  own  notions 
of  love  and  honeysuckles." 

"  I  was  determined  to  stick  up  for  you,  Marmaduke." 

"  Dont  be  indignant:  I  knew  you  would  stick  up  for 
me  in  your  own  way.  But  what  I  want  to  shew  is,  that 
only  three  people  believed  that  I  was  in  earnest;  and 
those  three  were  prejudiced." 

"  I  wish  you  had  enlightened  Constance,  and  deceived 
all  the  rest  of  the  world,  instead.  No  doubt  I  was  wrong, 
very  wrong.  I  am  very  sorry." 

"  Pshaw !  It  doesnt  matter.  It  will  all  blow  over  some 
day.  Hush,  I  hear  the  garden  gate  opening.  It  is  Con- 
stance, come  to  spy  what  I  am  doing  here  with  you.  She 
is  as  jealous  as  a  crocodile — very  nearly  made  a  scene 
yesterday  because  I  played  with  Nelly  against  her  at 
tennis.  I  have  to  drive  her  to  Bushy  Copse  this  after- 
noon, confound  it !  " 

"And  will  you,  after  what  you  have  just  confessed?" 

"  I  must.  Besides,  Jasper  says  that  Conolly  is  coming 
this  evening  to  pack  up  his  traps  and  go;  and  I  want  to 
be  out  of  the  way  when  he  is  about." 

"  This  evening !  " 

"  Yes.  Between  ourselves,  Marian,  Susanna  and  I 
were  so  put  out  by  the  cool  way  he  carried  on  when  he 
called,  that  we  had  a  regular  quarrel  after  he  went;  and 
we  havent  made  it  up  yet." 

"  Pray  dont  talk  about  it  to  me,  Duke.  Here  is  Con- 
stance." 

"  So  you  are  here,"  said  Constance,  gaily,  but  with  a 

118 


The   Irrational   Knot 

quick  glance  at  them.  "  That  is  a  pretty  way  to  bring 
your  cousin  in  to  luncheon,  sir." 

"  We  got  chatting  about  you,  my  ownest,"  said  Mar- 
maduke; "  and  the  subject  was  so  sweet,  and  the  moments 
were  so  fleet,  that  we  talked  for  quite  an  hour  on  the 
strict  q.  t.  Eh,  Marian  ?  " 

"As  a  punishment,  you  shall  have  no  lunch.  Mamma 
is  very  angry  with  you  both." 

"Always  ready  to  make  allowances  for  her,  provided 
she  sends  you  to  lecture  me,  Conny.  Why  dont  you  wear 
your  hat  properly  ?  "  He  arranged  her  hat  as  he  spoke. 
Constance  laughed  and  blushed.  Marian  shuddered. 
"  Now  youre  all  that  fancy  painted  you :  youre  lovely, 
youre  divine.  Are  you  ready  for  Bushy  Copse?  " 

Constance  replied  by  singing: 

"  Oh  yes,  if  you  please,  kind  sir,  she  said ;  sir,  she 

said ;  sir,  she  said ; 
Oh !  yes  if  you  pie — ease,  kind  sir,  she  said." 

"  Then  come  along.  After  your  ladyship,"  he  said, 
taking  her  elbows  as  if  they  were  the  handles  of  a  wheel- 
barrow, and  pushing  her  out  before  him  through  the 
narrow  entrance  to  the  summer-house.  On  the  thresh- 
old he  turned  for  a  moment;  met  Marian's  reproachful 
eyes  with  a  wink;  grinned;  and  disappeared. 

For  half  an  hour  afterward  Marian  sat  alone  in  the 
summer-house,  thinking  of  the  mistake  she  had  made. 
Then  she  returned  to  the  Cottage,  where  she  found  Miss 
McQuinch  writing  in  the  library,  and  related  to  her  all 
that  had  passed  in  the  summer-house.  Elinor  listened, 
seated  in  a  rocking-chair,  restlessly  clapping  her  pro- 
tended ankles  together.  When  she  heard  of  Conolly's 

119 


The   Irrational   Knot 

relationship  to  Susanna,  she  kept  still  for  a  few  moments, 
looking  with  widely  opened  eyes  at  Marian.  Then,  with 
a  sharp  laugh,  she  said: 

"  Well,  I  beg  his  pardon.  I  thought  he  was  another 
of  that  woman's  retainers.  I  never  dreamt  of  his  being 
her  brother." 

Marian  was  horror  stricken.  "  You  thought — !  Oh, 
Nelly,  what  puts  such  things  into  your  head  ?  " 

"  So  would  you  have  thought  it  if  you  had  the  least 
gumption  about  people.  However,  I  was  wrong;  and 
I'm  glad  of  it.  However,  I  was  right  about  Marmaduke. 
I  told  you  so,  over  and  over  and  over  again." 

"  I  know  you  did;  but  I  didnt  think  you  were  in  ear- 
nest." 

"  No,  you  never  can  conceive  my  being  in  earnest  when 
I  differ  from  you,  until  the  event  proves  me  to  be  right." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  kill  Constance." 

"  Dont,  Marian !  "  cried  Elinor,  giving  her  chair  a  vio- 
lent swing. 

"  I  am  quite  serious.     You  know  how  delicate  she  is." 

"  Well,  if  she  dies  of  any  sentiment,  it  will  be  wounded 
vanity.  Serve  her  right  for  allowing  a  man  to  be  forced 
into  marrying  her.  I  believe  she  knows  in  her  soul  that 
he  does  not  care  about  her.  Why  else  should  she  be 
jealous  of  me,  of  you,  and  of  everybody?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  instead  of  sympathizing  with 
the  unfortunate  girl,  both  you  and  Marmaduke  exult  in 
her  disappointment." 

"  I  pity  her,  poor  little  wretch.  But  I  dont  sympa- 
thize with  her.  I  dont  pity  Marmaduke  one  bit:  if  the 
whole  family  cuts  him  he  will  deserve  it  richly,  but  I  do 
sympathize  with  him.  Can  you  wonder  at  his  prefer- 
ence? When  we  went  to  see  that  woman  last  June  I 

120 


The   Irrational   Knot 

envied  her.  There  she  was,  clever,  independent,  suc- 
cessful, holding  her  own  in  the  world,  earning  her  living, 
fascinating  a  crowd  of  people,  whilst  we  poor  respectable 
nonentities  sat  pretending  to  despise  her — as  if  we  were 
not  waiting  until  some  man  in  want  of  a  female  slave 
should  offer  us  our  board  and  lodging  and  the  privilege 
of  his  lordly  name  with  '  Missis  '  before  it  for  our  life- 
long services.  You  may  make  up  as  many  little  bread- 
and-butter  romances  as  you  please,  Marian;  but  I  defy 
you  to  give  me  any  sensible  reason  why  Marmaduke 
should  chain  himself  for  ever  to  a  little  inane  thing  like 
Constance,  when  he  can  enjoy  the  society  of  a  capable 
woman  like  that  without  binding  himself  at  all." 

"  Nonsense,  Nelly !  Really,  you  oughtnt  to  say  such 
things." 

"  No.  I  ought  to  keep  both  eyes  tight  shut  so  that 
I  may  be  contented  in  that  station  to  which  it  has 
pleased  God  to  call  me." 

"  Imagine  his  proposing  to  marry  her,  Nell !  I  am 
just  as  wicked  as  you ;  for  I  am  very  glad  she  refused ; 
though  I  cant  conceive  why  she  did  it." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  becoming  excited, 
"  she  refused  because  she  had  too  much  good  sense :  aye, 
and  too  much  common  decency  to  accept.  It  is  all  very 
well  for  us  fortunate  good-for-nothings  to  resort  to 
prostitution " 

"  Oh,  Nelly !  " 

-I  say,  to  prostitution,  to  secure  ourselves  a  home 


and  an  income.  Somebody  said  openly  in  Parliament  the 
other  day  that  marriage  was  the  true  profession  of 
women.  So  it  is  a  profession;  and  except  that  it  is  a 
harder  bargain  for  both  parties,  and  that  society  counte- 
nances it,  I  dont  see  how  it  differs  from  what  we — bless 

121 


The   Irrational   Knot 

our  virtuous  indignation!— stigmatize  as  prostitution.  / 
dont  mean  ever  to  be  married,  I  can  tell  you,  Marian. 
I  would  rather  die  than  sell  myself  forever  to  a  man, 
and  stand  in  a  church  before  a  lot  of  people  whilst 
George  or  somebody  read  out  that  cynically  plain-spoken 
marriage  service  over  me." 

"  Stop  Nelly !  Pray  stop !  If  you  thought  for  a  mo- 
ment you  would  never  say  such  awful  things." 

"  I  thought  we  had  agreed  long  ago  that  marriage  is 
a  mistake." 

"  Yes ;  but  that  is  very  different  to  what  you  are  saying 
now." 

"  I  cannot  see " 

"  Pray  stop,  Nelly.  Dont  go  on  in  that  strain.  It 
does  no  good;  and  it  makes  me  very  uncomfortable." 

"  I'll  take  it  out  in  work,"  said  Nelly  calmly,  return- 
ing to  her  manuscript.  "  I  can  see  that,  as  you  say, 
talking  does  no  good.  All  the  more  reason  why  I  should 
have  another  try  at  earning  my  own  living.  When  I 
become  a  great  novelist  I  shall  say  what  I  like  and  do 
what  I  please.  For  the  present  I  am  your  obedient, 
humble  servant." 

At  any  other  time  Marian  would  have  protested,  and 
explained,  and  soothed.  Now  she  was  too  heavily  pre- 
occupied/by her  guilty  conscience.  She  strolled  discon- 
solately to  the  window,  and  presently,  seeing  that  Miss 
McQuinch  was  at  work  in  earnest  and  had  better  not  be 
disturbed,  went  off  for  a  lonely  walk.  It  was  a  glorious 
afternoon;  and  nature  heaped  its  peculiar  consolations 
on  her;  so  that  she  never  thought  of  returning  until  the 
sun  was  close  to  the  horizon.  As  she  came,  tired, 
through  the  plantation,  with  the  evening  glow  and  the 
light  wind,  in  which  the  branches  were  rustling  and  the 

122 


The   Irrational   Knot 

leaves  dropping,  lulling  her  luxuriously,  she  heard  some 
one  striding  swiftly  along  the  path  behind.  She  looked 
back;  but  there  was  a  curve  in  the  way;  and  she  could 
not  see  who  was  coming.  Then  it  occurred  to  her  that 
it  might  be  Conolly.  Dreading  to  face  him  after  what 
had  happened,  she  stole  aside  among  the  trees  a  little 
way,  and  sat  down  on  a  stone,  hoping  that  he  might  pass 
by  without  seeing  her.  The  next  moment  he  came  round 
the  curve,  looking  so  resolute  and  vigorous  that  her 
heart  became  fainter  as  she  watched  him.  Just  opposite 
where  she  sat,  he  stopped,  having  a  clear  view  of  the 
path  ahead  for  some  distance,  and  appeared  puzzled. 
Marian  held  her  breath.  He  looked  to  the  left  through 
the  trees,  then  to  the  right,  where  she  was. 

"  Good-evening,  Miss  Lind,"  he  said  respectfully, 
raising  his  hat. 

"  Good-evening,"  said  she,  trembling. 

"  You  are  not  looking  quite  well." 

"  I  have  walked  too  much ;  and  I  feel  a  little  tired. 
That  is  why  I  had  to  sit  down.  I  shall  be  rested  pres- 
ently." 

Conolly  sat  down  on  a  felled  trunk  opposite  Marian. 
"  This  is  my  last  visit  to  Carbury  Towers,"  he  said.  "  No 
doubt  you  know  that  I  am  going  for  good." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marian.  "  I — I  am  greatly  obliged  to 
you  for  all  the  pains  you  have  taken  with  me  in  the 
laboratory.  You  have  been  very  patient.  I  suppose  I 
have  often  wasted  your  time  unreasonably." 

"  No,"  said  Conolly,  unceremoniously,  "  you  have  not 
wasted  my  time:  I  never  let  anybody  do  that.  My  time 
belonged  to  Lord  Carbury,  not  to  myself.  However, 
that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  I  enjoyed  giving  you 


The   Irrational   Knot 

lessons.  Unless  you  enjoyed  taking  them,  the  whole  ob- 
ligation rests  on  me." 

"  They  were  very  pleasant." 

He  shifted  himself  into  an  easier  position,  looking  well 
pleased.  Then  he  said,  carelessly,  "  Has  Mr.  Marma- 
duke  Lind  come  down  ?  " 

Marian  reddened  and  felt  giddy. 

"  I  want  to  avoid  meeting  him,"  continued  Conolly; 
"  and  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  know  enough  of  his 
movements  this  evening  to  help  me  to  do  so.  It  does 
not  matter  much;  but  I  have  a  reason." 

Marian  felt  the  hysteric  globe  at  her  throat  as  she 
tried  to  speak;  but  she  repressed  it,  and  said: 

"  Mr.  Conolly:  I  know  the  reason.  I  did  not  know 
before:  I  am  sure  you  did  not  think  I  did.  I  made  a 
dreadful  mistake." 

"  Why !  "  said  Conolly,  with  some  indignation,  "  who 
has  told  you  since  ?  " 

"  Marmaduke,"  said  Marian,  roused  to  reply  quickly 
by  the  energy  of  the  questioner.  "  He  did  not  mean  to 
be  indiscreet:  he  thought  I  knew." 

"  Thought !  He  never  thought  in  his  life,  Miss  Lind. 
However,  he  was  right  enough  to  tell  you;  and  I  am  glad 
you  know  the  truth,  because  it  explains  my  behavior 
the  last  time  we  met.  It  took  me  aback  a  bit  for  the 
moment." 

"  You  were  very  forbearing.  I  hope  you  will  not 
think  me  intrusive  if  I  tell  you  how  sincerely  sorry  I  am 
for  the  misfortune  which  has  come  to  you." 

"  What  misfortune  ?  " 

Marian  lost  confidence  again,  and  looked  at  him  in 
silent  distress. 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  interposed,  quickly.  "  I  know ;  but 

124 


The   Irrational   Knot 

you  had  put  it  all  out  of  my  head.  I  am  much  obliged 
to  you.  Not  that  I  am  much  concerned  about  it.  You 
will  perhaps  think  it  an  instance  of  the  depravity  of  my 
order,  Miss  Lind;  but  I  am  not  one  of  those  people  who 
think  it  pious  to  consider  their  near  relatives  as  if  they 
were  outside  the  natural  course  of  things.  I  never  was 
a  good  son  or  a  good  brother  or  a  good  patriot  in  the 
sense  of  thinking  that  my  mother  and  my  sister  and  my 
native  country  were  better  than  other  people's  because 
I  happened  to  belong  to  them.  I  knew  what  would  hap- 
pen some  day,  though,  as  usual,  my  foreknowledge  did 
not  save  me  from  a  little  emotion  when  the  event  came 
to  pass.  Besides,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  dont  feel  it  as 
a  misfortune.  You  know  what  my  sister's  profession  is. 
You  told  me  how  you  felt  when  you  saw  her  act.  Now, 
tell  me  fairly,  and  without  stopping  to  think  of  whether 
your  answer  will  hurt  me,  would  you  consent  to  know  her 
in  private  even  if  you  had  heard  nothing  to  her  disad- 
vantage? Would  you  invite  her  to  your  house,  or  go 
to  a  party  at  which  all  the  other  women  were  like  her? 
Would  you  introduce  young  ladies  to  her,  as  you  would 
introduce  them  to  Miss  McQuinch?  Dont  stop  to  imag- 
ine exceptional  circumstances  which  might  justify  you 
in  doing  these  things;  but  tell  me  yes  or  no,  would  you?  " 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Conolly,  I  should  really  never  have  an 
opportunity  of  doing  them." 

"  By  your  leave,  Miss  Lind,  that  means  No.  Hon- 
estly, then,  what  has  Susanna  to  lose  by  disregarding 
your  rules  of  behavior?  Even  if,  by  marrying,  she  con- 
ciliated the  notions  of  your  class,  she  would  only  give 
some  man  the  right  to  ill-treat  her  and  spend  her  earn- 
ings, without  getting  anything  in  return — and  remem- 
ber there  is  a  special  danger  of  that  on  the  stage,  for 

125 


The  Irrational   Knot 

several  reasons.  She  would  not  really  conciliate  you  by 
marrying,  for  you  wouldnt  associate  with  her  a  bit  the 
more  because  of  her  marriage  certificate.  Of  course  I 
am  putting  her  self-respect  out  of  the  question,  that  be- 
ing a  matter  between  herself  and  her  conscience,  with 
which  we  have  no  concern.  Believe  me,  neither  actresses 
nor  any  other  class  will  trouble  themselves  about  the 
opinion  of  a  society  in  which  they  are  allowed  to  have 
neither  part  nor  lot.  Perhaps  I  am  wrong  to  talk  about 
such  matters  to  you;  but  you  are  trained  to  feel  all  the 
worst  that  can  be  felt  for  my  sister;  and  I  feel  bound  to 
let  you  know  that  there  is  something  to  be  said  in  her 
defence.  I  have  no  right  to  blame  her,  as  she  has  done 
me  no  harm.  The  only  way  in  which  her  conduct  can 
influence  my  prospects  will  be  through  her  being  an  un- 
desirable sister-in-law  in  case  I  should  want  to  marry." 

"If  the  person  you  choose  hesitate  on  that  account, 
you  can  let  her  go  without  regret,"  said  Marian.  "  She 
will  not  be  worthy  of  your  regard." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Conolly,  laughing. 
"  You  see,  Miss  Lind,  if  that  invention  of  mine  succeeds, 
I  may  become  a  noted  man;  and  it  is  fashionable  nowa- 
days for  society  to  patronize  geniuses  who  hit  on  a  new 
illustration  of  what  people  call  the  marvels  of  science. 
I  am  ambitious.  As  a  celebrity,  I  might  win  the  affec- 
tions of  a  duchess.  Who  knows  ?  " 

"  I  should  not  advise  you  to  marry  a  duchess.  I  do 
not  know  many  of  them,  as  I  am  a  comparatively  humble 
person;  but  I  am  sure  you  would  not  like  them." 

"Aye.  And  possibly  a  lady  of  gentle  nurture  would 
not  like  me." 

"  On  the  contrary,  clever  people  are  so  rare  in  society 

126 


The   Irrational   Knot 

that  I  think  you  would  have  a  better  chance  than  most 
men." 

"  Do  you  think  my  manners  would  pass  ?  I  learnt  to 
dance  and  bow  before  I  was  twelve  years  old  from  the 
most  experienced  master  in  Europe;  and  I  used  to  mix 
with  all  the  counts,  dukes,  and  queens  in  my  father's 
opera  company,  not  to  mention  the  fashionable  people 
I  have  read  about  in  novels." 

"  You  are  jesting,  Mr.  Conolly.  I  do  not  believe  that 
your  manners  give  you  the  least  real  concern." 

"And  you  think  that  I  may  aspire  in  time — if  I  am 
successful  in  public — to  the  hand  of  a  lady  ?  " 

"  Surely  you  know  as  much  of  the  world  as  I.  Why 
should  you  not  marry  a  lady,  if  you  wish  to  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  class  prejudice  would  be  too  strong  for 
me,  after  all." 

"  I  dont  think  so.     What  hour  is  it  now,  Mr.  Conolly  ?  " 

"  It  wants  ten  minutes  of  seven." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Marian,  rising.  "  Miss  McQuinch  is 
probably  wondering  whether  I  am  drowned  or  lost.  I 
must  get  back  to  the  Hall  as  fast  as  I  can.  They  have 
returned  from  Bushy  Copse  before  this;  and  I  am  sure 
they  are  asking  about  me." 

Conolly  rose  silently  and  walked  with  her  as  far  as 
the  path  from  the  cottage  to  the  laboratory. 

"  This  is  my  way,  Miss  Lind,"  said  he.  "  I  am  going 
to  the  laboratory.  Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  give  my 
respects  to  Miss  McQuinch.  I  shall  not  see  her  again, 
as  I  must  return  to  town  by  the  last  train  to-night." 

"  And  are  you  not  coming  back — not  at  all,  I  mean?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

"  Oh !  "  said  Marian  slowly. 

"  Good  bye,  Miss  Lind." 

127 


The   Irrational   Knot 

He  was  about  to  raise  his  hat  as  usual;  but  Marian, 
with  a  smile,  put  out  her  hand.  He  took  it  for  the  first 
time;  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  gravely;  and  left  her. 

Lest  they  should  surprise  one  another  in  the  act,  neither 
of  them  looked  back  at  the  other  as  they  went  their 
several  ways, 


128 


BOOK  II 


CHAPTER   VII 

IN  the  spring,  eighteen  months  after  his  daughter's 
visit  to  Carbury  Towers,  Mr.  Reginald  Harrington 
Lind  called  at  a  house  in  Manchester  Square  and 
found  Mrs.  Douglas  at  home.  Sholto's  mother  was  a 
widow  lady  older  than  Mr.  Lind,  with  a  rather  glassy 
eye  and  shaky  hand,  who  would  have  looked  weak  and 
shiftless  in  an  almshouse,  but  who,  with  plenty  of  money, 
unlimited  domestic  service,  and  unhesitating  deference 
from  attendants  who  were  all  trained  artists  in  their 
occupation,  made  a  fair  shew  of  being  a  dignified  and 
interesting  old  lady.  When  he  was  seated,  her  first 
action  was  to  take  a  new  photograph  from  a  little  table 
at  her  side,  and  hand  it  to  him  without  a  word,  awaiting 
his  recognition  of  it  with  a  shew  of  natural  pride  and 
affection  which  was  amateurish  in  comparison  to  the 
more  polished  and  skilful  comedy  with  which  her  visitor 
took  it  and  pretended  to  admire  it. 

"  Capital.  Capital,"  said  Mr.  Lind.  "  He  must  give 
us  one." 

"  You  dont  think  that  the  beard  has  spoiled  him,  do 
you  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Douglas. 

"  Certainly  not :  it  is  an  improvement,"  said  Mr.  Lind, 
decisively.  "  You  are  glad  to  have  him  back  again  with 
you,  I  dare  say.  Ah  yes,  yes  "  ( Mrs.  Douglas's  eyes 
had  answered  for  her).  "Did  he  tell  you  that  he  met 
me?  I  saw  him  on  Wednesday  last  for  the  first  time 
since  his  return  to  London.  How  long  was  he  away  ?  " 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Two  years,"  she  replied,  with  slow  emphasis,  as  if 
such  an  absence  were  hardly  credible.  "  Two  long 
years.  He  has  been  staying  in  Paris,  in  Venice,  in 
Florence :  a  month  here,  a  week  there,  dissatisfied  every- 
where. He  would  have  been  almost  as  happy  with  me 
at  home.  And  how  is  Marian  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  smiling,  "  I  believe  she  is  still 
disengaged;  and  she  professes  to  be  fancy  free.  She  is 
fond  of  saying,  generally,  that  she  will  never  marry,  and 
so  forth.  That  is  the  new  fashion  with  young  women — 
if  saying  what  they  dont  mean  can  be  called  a  new 
fashion." 

"  Marian  is  sure  to  get  married,"  said  Mrs.  Douglas. 
"  She  must  have  had  offers  already.  There  are  few 
parents  who  have  not  cause  to  envy  you." 

"  We  have  both  been  happy  in  that  respect,  Mrs. 
Douglas.  Sholto  is  a  highly  distinguished  young  man. 
I  wish  I  had  started  in  life  with  half  his  advantages.  I 
thought  at  one  time  he  was  perhaps  becoming  attached 
to  Marian." 

"  You  are  quite  sure,  Mr.  Lind,  that  you  could  forgive 
his  being  a  plain  gentleman  ?  A  little  bird  whispered  to 
me  that  you  desired  a  title  for  Marian." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Douglas,  we,  who  are  familiar  with 
titles,  understand  their  true  value.  I  should  be  very 
sorry  to  see  Marian  lose,  by  an  unsuitable  alliance,  the 
social  position  I  have  been  able  to  give  her.  I  should 
set  my  face  resolutely  against  such  an  alliance.  But 
few  English  titles  can  boast  a  pedigree  comparable 
with  Sholto's.  The  name  of  Douglas  is  historic — far 
more  so  than  that  of  Lind,  which  is  not  even  English 
except  by  naturalization.  Besides,  Sholto's  talents  are 
very  remarkable.  He  will  certainly  adopt  a  political 

132 


The   Irrational   Knot 

career;  and,  with  his  opportunities  and  abilities,  a  peer- 
age is  anything  but  a  remote  contingency." 

"  Sholto,  you  know,  is  perfectly  unembarrassed.  There 
is  not  a  charge  on  his  property.  I  think  that  even  Ma- 
rian, good  as  she  is,  and  lovely  as  she  is,  will  not  easily 
find  a  better  match.  But  I  am  well  known  to  be  a  little 
crazy  about  my  dear  boy.  That  is  because  I  know  him 
so  much  better  than  anyone  else  does.  Now  let  us 
talk  about  other  matters.  Let  me  see.  Oh  yes,  I  got 
a  prospectus  of  some  company  from  the  city  the  other 
day;  and  whose  name  should  there  be  upon  the  list  of 
directors  but  Reginald  Harrington  Lind's!  And  Lord 
Carbury's,  too !  Pray,  is  the  entire  family  going  into 
business  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  believe  the  undertaking  to  be  a  commercially 
sound  one;  and " 

"  Fancy  you  talking  about  commercial  soundness !  " 

"  True.  It  must  sound  strange  to  you.  But  it  is  no 
longer  unusual  for  men  in  my  position  to  take  an  active 
part  in  the  direction  of  commerce.  We  have  duties  as 
well  as  privileges.  I  gave  my  name  and  took  a  few 
shares  chiefly  on  the  recommendation  of  Jasper  and  of 
my  own  stockbroker.  I  think  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  Jasper  and  Mr.  Conolly  have  made  a  very  remark- 
able discovery,  and  one  which  must  prove  highly  remu- 
nerative and  beneficial." 

"  What  is  the  discovery  ?  I  did  not  quite  understand 
the  prospectus." 

"  Well,  it  is  called  the  Conolly  Electro-motor." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that." 

"And  it — it  turns  all  sorts  of  machinery.  I  cannot 
explain  it  scientifically  to  you:  you  would  not  understand 
me.  But  it  is,  in  short,  a  method  of  driving  machinery 

133 


The   Irrational   Knot 

by  electricity  at  a  less  cost  than  by  steam.  It  is  con- 
nected in  principle  with  the  conservation  of  energy  and 
other  technical  matters.  You  must  come  and  see  the 
machinery  at  work  some  day." 

"  I  must,  indeed.  And  is  it  true  that  Mr.  Conolly  was 
a  common  working  man  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  practical  man,  undoubtedly,  but  highly  edu- 
cated. He  speaks  French  and  Italian  fluently,  and  is  a 
remarkable  musician.  Altogether  a  man  of  very  superior 
attainments,  and  by  no  means  deficient  in  culture." 

"  Dear  me !  Jasper  told  me  something  of  that  sort 
about  him;  but  Lady  Carbury  gave  him  a  very  different 
character.  She  assured  me  that  he  was  sprung  from 
the  dregs  of  the  people,  and  that  she  had  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  to  teach  him  his  proper  place.  Still,  we  know 
that  she  is  not  very  particular  as  to  what  she  says  when 
she  dislikes  people.  Yet  she  ought  to  know;  for  he  was 
Jasper's  laboratory  servant — at  least  so  she  said." 

"  Oh,  surely  not  a  servant.  Jasper  never  regarded 
him  in  that  light.  The  Countess  disapproves  of  Jasper's 
scientific  pursuits,  and  sets  her  face  against  all  who  en- 
courage him  in  them.  However,  I  really  know  nothing 
about  Mr.  Conolly's  antecedents.  His  manner  when  he 
appears  at  our  board  meetings  is  quiet  and  not  unpleas- 
ant. Marian,  it  appears,  met  him  at  Towers  Cottage 
the  year  before  last,  and  had  some  scientific  lessons  from 
him.  He  was  quite  unknown  then.  It  was  rather  a 
curious  coincidence.  I  did  not  know  of  it  until  about 
a  month  ago,  when  he  read  a  paper  at  the  Society  of 
Arts  on  his  invention.  I  attended  the  meeting  with  Ma- 
rian; and  when  it  was  over,  I  introduced  him  to  her,  and 
was  surprised  to  learn  that  they  knew  one  another  al- 
ready. He  told  me  afterward  that  Marian  had  shewn 

134 


The   Irrational   Knot 

an  unusual  degree  of  cleverness  in  studying  electricity, 
and  that  she  greatly  interested  him  at  the  time." 

"  No  doubt.  Marian  interests  everybody;  and  even 
great  discoverers,  when  they  are  young,  are  only  human." 

"Ah !  Perhaps  so.  But  she  must  have  shewn  some 
ability  or  she  would  never  have  elicited  a  remark  from 
him.  He  is  full  of  his  business." 

"And  what  is  the  latest  news  of  the  family  scamp  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  my  Reginald  ?  " 

"  Dear  me,  no !  What  a  shame  to  call  poor  Reggy 
a  scamp!  I  mean  young  Marmaduke,  of  course.  Is 
it  true  that  he  has  a  daughter  now  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes.     Perfectly  true." 

"  The  reprobate !  And  he  was  always  such  a  pleasant 
fellow." 

"  Yes;  but  he  is  annoyingly  inconsiderate.  About  a 
fortnight  ago,  Marian  and  Elinor  went  to  Putney  to  a 
private  view  at  Mr.  Scott's  studio.  On  their  way  back 
they  saw  Marmaduke  on  the  river,  and,  rather  unneces- 
sarily, I  think,  entered  into  conversation  with  him.  He 
begged  them  to  come  to  Hammersmith  in  his  boat,  say- 
ing that  he  had  something  there  to  shew  them.  Elinor,  it 
appears,  had  the  sense  to  ask  whether  it  was  anything 
they  ought  not  to  see;  but  he  replied  on  his  honor  that 
it  was  something  perfectly  innocent,  and  promised  that 
they  should  be  delighted  with  it.  So  they  foolishly  con- 
sented, and  went  with  him  to  Hammersmith,  where  they 
left  the  river  and  walked  some  distance  with  him.  He 
left  them  in  a  road  somewhere  in  West  Kensington,  and 
came  back  after  about  fifteen  minutes  with  a  little  girl. 
He  actually  presented  her  to  Marian  and  Elinor  as  a 
member  of  the  family  whom  they,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
would  like  to  know." 

135 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Well,  such  a  thing  to  do !     And  what  happened  ?  " 

"  Marian  seems  to  have  thought  of  nothing  but  the 
prettiness  of  the  unhappy  child.  She  gravely  informed 
me  that  she  forgave  Marmaduke  everything  when  she 
saw  how  he  doted  on  it.  Elinor  has  always  shewn  a 
disposition  to  defend  him " 

"  She  is  full  of  perversity,  and  always  was." 

" and  this  incident  did  not  damage  his  credit  with 

her.  However,  after  the  little  waif  had  been  sufficiently 
petted  and  praised  to  gratify  Master  Marmaduke's  pa- 
ternal feelings,  they  came  home,  and,  instead  of  holding 
their  tongues,  began  to  tell  all  our  people  what  a  dear  little 
child  Marmaduke  had,  and  how  they  considered  that  it 
ought  not  to  be  made  to  suffer  for  his  follies.  In  fact, 
I  think  they  would  have  adopted  it,  if  I  had  allowed 
them." 

"  That  is  Marian  all  over.  Some  of  her  ideas  will 
serve  her  very  well  when  she  goes  to  heaven;  but  they 
will  get  her  into  scrapes  in  this  wicked  world  if  you  do 
not  take  care  of  her." 

"  I  fear  so.  For  that  reason  I  tolerate  a  degree  of 
cynicism  in  Elinor's  character  which  would  otherwise  be 
most  disagreeable  to  me.  It  is  often  useful  in  correcting 
Marian's  extravagances.  Unfortunately,  the  incident  at 
Hammersmith  did  not  pass  off  without  making  mischief. 
It  happens  that  my  sister  Julia  is  interested  in  a  Home 
for  foundling  girls — a  semi-private  place,  where  a  dozen 
children  are  trained  as  domestic  servants." 

"  Yes.  I  have  been  through  it.  It  is  very  neat  and 
pretty;  but  they  really  treat  the  poor  girls  as  if  they 
ought  to  be  thankful  for  permission  to  exist.  Their 
dresses  are  so  ugly !  " 

"  Possibly.     I  assure  you  that  presentations  are  much 

136 


The   Irrational   Knot 

sought  after,  and  are  very  difficult  to  get.  Julia  is  a 
patroness.  Marian  told  her  about  this  child  of  Mar- 
maduke's;  and  it  happened  that  a  vacancy  had  just  oc- 
curred at  the  Home  in  consequence  of  one  of  the  girls 
dying  of  melancholia  and  spinal  affection.  Julia,  who 
has  perhaps  more  piety  than  tact,  wrote  to  Marmaduke 
offering  to  present  his  daughter,  and  expatiating  on  the 
advantages  of  the  Home  to  the  poor  little  lost  one.  In 
her  desire  to  reclaim  Marmaduke  also,  she  entrusted  the 
letter  to  George,  who  undertook  to  deliver  it,  and  further 
Julia's  project  by  personal  persuasion.  George  described 
the  interview  to  me,  and  shewed  me,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
how  much  downright  ferocity  may  exist  beneath  an  ap- 
parently frank,  jovial,  reckless  exterior  like  Marma- 
duke's." 

"  Well,  I  hardly  wonder  at  his  refusing.  Of  course, 
he  might  have  known  that  the  motive  of  the  offer  was 
a  kind  one." 

"  Refused !  A  gentleman  can  always  refuse  an  offer 
with  dignity.  Marmaduke  was  outrageous.  George — a 
clergyman — owed  his  escape  from  actual  violence  to  the 
interference  of  the  woman,  and  to  a  timely  representa- 
tion that  he  had  undertaken  to  bear  the  message  in  order 
to  soften  any  angry  feelings  that  it  might  give  rise  to. 
Marmaduke  repeatedly  applied  foul  language  to  his  aunt 
and  to  her  offer;  and  George  with  great  difficulty  dis- 
suaded him  from  writing  a  most  offensive  letter  to  her. 
Julia  was  so  hurt  by  this  that  she  complained  to  Dora — 
Marmaduke's  mother — who  had  up  to  that  time  been 
kept  in  ignorance  of  his  doings;  and  now  it  is  hard  to 
say  where  the  mischief  will  end.  Dora  is  overwhelmed 
by  the  revelation  of  the  life  her  son  is  leading.  Mar- 
maduke has  consequently  forfeited  his  father's  counte- 

137 


The   Irrational   Knot 

nance,  which  had  to  be  extended  to  him  so  far  as  to 
allow  of  his  occasional  appearance  at  home,  in  order  to 
keep  Dora  in  the  dark.  Now  that  she  is  enlightened, 
of  course  there  is  an  end  of  all  that,  and  he  is  forbidden 
the  house." 

"  What  a  lot  of  mischief !     Dear  me !  " 

"  So  I  said  to  Marian.  Had  she  refused  to  go  up  the 
river  with  Marmaduke,  as  she  should  have  done,  all  this 
would  not  have  occurred.  She  will  not  see  it  in  that 
light,  but  lays  all  the  blame  on  her  aunt  Julia,  whose 
offer  fell  somewhat  short  of  her  own  notions  of  pro- 
viding for  the  child's  future." 

"  How  does  Marmaduke  stand  with  respect  to  money  ? 
I  suppose  his  father  has  stopped  his  allowance." 

"  No.  He  threatened  to  do  it,  and  went  so  far  as  to 
make  his  solicitor  write  to  that  effect  to  Marmaduke,  who 
had  the  consummate  impudence  to  reply  that  he  should 
in  that  case  be  compelled  to  provide  for  himself  by  con- 
tracting a  marriage  of  which  he  could  not  expect  his 
family  to  approve.  Still,  he  added,  if  the  family  chose 
to  sever  their  connexion  with  him,  they  could  not  ex- 
pect him  to  consult  their  feelings  in  his  future  disposal 
of  himself.  In  plain  English,  he  threatened  to  marry 
this  woman  if  his  income  was  cut  off.  He  carried  his 
point,  too;  for  no  alteration  has  been  made  in  his  allow- 
ance. Indeed,  as  he  has  money  of  his  own,  and  as  part 
of  the  property  is  entailed,  it  would  be  easier  to  irritate 
him  uselessly  than  to  subject  him  to  any  material  depri- 
vation." 

"  The  young  scamp !  I  wonder  he  was  clever  enough 
to  take  advantage  like  that." 

"  He  has  shewn  no  lack  of  acuteness  of  late.  I  sus- 
pect he  is  under  shrewd  guidance." 

138 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  the — the  guidance  ?  " 

"  Not  in  person.  I  seldom  enter  a  theatre  now.  But 
I  am  of  course  familiar  with  her  appearance  from  the 
photographic  portraits  of  her.  They  are  in  all  the  shop 
windows." 

"  Yes.     I  think  I  have  noticed  them." 

"And  now,  Mrs.  Douglas,  I  fear  I  have  paid  you  a 
very  long  visit." 

"Why  dont  you  come  oftener?" 

"  I  wish  I  could  find  time.  I  have  not  so  much  leisure 
for  enjoyment  as  I  used." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that.  But  we  are  always  glad 
to  have  a  chat  with  one  another,  I  know.  We  are  agreed 
about  the  dear  children,  I  think?  " 

"  Cordially.     Cordially.     Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye." 


139 


O 


CHAPTER   VIII 

N  the  morning  of  the  first  Friday  in  May  Ma- 
rian received  this  letter: 


"  Uxbridge  Road,  Holland  Park,  W. 

"  DEAR  Miss  LIND  :  I  must  begin  by  explaining  why 
I  make  this  communication  to  you  by  letter  instead  of 
orally.  It  is  because  I  am  about  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a 
favor.  If  you  asked  me  to  do  anything  for  you,  then, 
no  matter  how  much  my  judgment  might  protest  against 
my  compliance,  I  could  not  without  pain  to  myself  re- 
fuse you  face  to  face.  I  have  no  right  to  assume  that 
your  heart  would  plead  on  my  behalf  against  your  head 
in  this  fashion;  but,  on  the  other  hand — the  wish  is 
father  to  the  thought  here — I  have  no  right  to  assume  that 
it  would  not.  Therefore,  to  spare  you  all  influences  ex- 
cept the  fair  ones  of  your  own  interest  and  inclination, 
I  make  my  proposal  in  writing.  You  will  please  put 
the  usual  construction  on  the  word  '  proposal.'  What  I 
desire  is  your  consent  to  marry  me.  If  your  first  im- 
pulse now  is  to  refuse,  I  beg  you  to  do  so  in  plain  terms 
at  once,  and  destroy  this  letter  without  reading  further. 
If  you  think,  on  the  contrary,  that  we  could  achieve  a 
future  as  pleasant  as  our  past  association  has  been —  to 
me  at  least,  here  is  what,  as  I  think,  you  have  to  consider. 

"  You  are  a  lady,  rich,  well-born,  beautiful,  loved 
by  many  persons  besides  myself,  too  happily  cicum- 
stanced  to  have  any  pressing  inducement  to  change  your 
condition,  and  too  fortunately  endowed  in  every  way  to 
have  reason  to  anticipate  the  least  difficulty  in  changing 
it  to  the  greatest  worldly  advantage  when  you  please. 

"  What  I  am  and  have  been,  you  know.  I  may  es- 
trange from  you  some  of  the  society  which  you  enjoy, 
and  I  can  introduce  you  to  none  that  would  compensate 
you  for  the  loss.  I  am  what  you  call  poor :  my  income  at 

140 


The   Irrational   Knot 

present  does  not  amount  to  much  more  than  fifteen 
hundred  pounds;  and  I  should  not  ask  you  to  marry  me 
if  it  were  not  that  your  own  inheritance  is  sufficient,  as 
I  have  ascertained,  to  provide  for  you  in  case  of  my  early 
death.  You  know  how  my  sister  is  situated;  how  your 
family  are  likely  to  feel  toward  me  on  her  account  and 
my  own;  and  how  impatient  I  am  of  devoting  much  time 
to  what  is  fashionably  supposed  to  be  pleasure.  On  the 
other  hand,  as  I  am  bidding  for  a  consent  and  not  for  a 
refusal,  I  hope  you  will  not  take  my  disadvantages  for 
more,  or  my  advantages  for  less,  than  they  are  honestly 
worth.  At  Carbury  Park  you  often  said  that  you  would 
never  marry;  and  I  have  said  the  same  myself.  So,  as 
we  neither  of  us  overrate  the  possibilities  of  happiness 
in  marriage,  perhaps  we  might,  if  you  would  be  a  little 
forbearing  with  me,  succeed  in  proving  that  we  have 
greatly  underrated  them.  As  for  the  prudence  of  the 
step,  I  have  seen  and  practised  too  much  prudence  to 
believe  that  it  is  worth  much  as  a  rule  of  conduct  in  a 
world  of  accidents.  If  there  were  a  science  of  life  as 
there  is  one  of  mechanics,  we  could  plan  our  lives 
scientifically  and  run  no  risks;  but  as  it  is,  we  must — 
together  or  apart — take  our  chance:  cautiousness  and 
recklessness  divide  the  great  stock  of  regrets  pretty 
equally. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  wonder  at  my  selfishness  in  wanting 
you,  for  my  own  good,  to  forfeit  your  present  happy  in- 
dependence among  your  friends,  and  involve  your  for- 
tunes with  those  of  a  man  whom  you  have  only  seen 
on  occasions  when  ceremony  compelled  him  to  observe 
his  best  behavior.  I  can  only  excuse  myself  by  remind- 
ing you  that  no  matter  whom  you  marry,  you  must  do 
so  at  the  same  disadvantages,  except  as  to  the  approval 
of  your  friends,  of  which  the  value  is  for  you  to  consider. 
That  being  so,  why  should  I  not  profit  by  your  hazard 
as  well  as  another?  Besides,  there  are  many  other  feel- 
ings impelling  me.  I  should  like  to  describe  them  to  you, 
and  would  if  I  understood  them  well  enough  to  do  it 
accurately. 

"  However,  nothing  is  further  from  my  intention  than 

141 


The  Irrational   Knot 

to  indite  a  love  letter;  so  I  will  return  to  graver  questions. 
One,  in  particular,  must  be  clearly  understood  between 
us.  You  are  too  earnest  to  consider  an  allusion  to  re- 
ligious matters  out  of  place  here.  I  do  not  know  exactly 
what  you  believe;  but  I  have  gathered  from  stray  re- 
marks of  yours  that  you  belong  to  what  is  called  the 
Broad  Church.  If  so,  we  must  to  some  extent  agree 
to  differ.  I  should  never  interfere  in  any  way  with 
your  liberty  as  far  as  your  actions  concerned  yourself 
only.  But,  frankly,  I  should  not  permit  my  wife  to 
teach  my  children  to  know  Christianity  in  any  other  way 
than  that  in  which  an  educated  Englishman  knows  Bud- 
dhism. I  will  not  go  through  any  ceremony  whatever  in 
a  church,  or  enter  one  except  to  play  the  organ.  I  am 
prejudiced  against  religions  of  all  sorts.  The  Church 
has  made  itself  the  natural  enemy  of  the  theatre;  and  I 
was  brought  up  in  the  theatre  until  I  became  a  poor 
workman  earning  wages,  when  I  found  the  Church  al- 
ways taking  part  against  me  and  my  comrades  with  the 
rich  who  did  no  work.  If  the  Church  had  never  set 
itself  against  me,  perhaps  I  should  never  have  set  myself 
against  the  Church;  but  what  is  done  is  done:  you  will 
find  me  irreligious,  but  not,  I  hope,  unreasonable. 

"  I  will  be  at  the  Academy  to-morrow  at  about  four 
o'clock,  as  I  do  not  care  to  remain  longer  in  suspense 
than  is  absolutely  necessary ;  but  if  you  are  not  prepared 
to  meet  me  then,  I  shall  faithfully  help  you  in  any  effort 
I  may  perceive  you  make  to  avoid  me. 
"  I  am,  dear  Miss  Lind, 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  EDWARD  CONOLLY." 

This  letter  conveyed  to  Marian  hardly  one  of  the 
considerations  set  forth  in  it.  She  thought  it  a  frank, 
strong,  admirable  letter,  just  what  she  should  have  hoped 
from  her  highest  estimate  of  him.  In  the  quaint  ear- 
nestness about  religion,  and  the  exaggerated  estimate 
(as  she  thought)  of  the  advantages  which  she  might 

142 


The   Irrational   Knot 

forfeit  by  marrying  him,  there  was  just  enough  of  the 
workman  to  make  them  characteristic.  She  wished  that 
she  could  make  some  real  sacrifice  for  his  sake.  She 
was  afraid  to  realize  her  situation  at  first,  and,  to  keep 
it  off,  occupied  herself  during  the  forenoon  with  her 
household  duties,  with  some  pianoforte  practice,  and 
such  other  triflings  as  she  could  persuade  herself  were 
necessary.  At  last  she  quite  suddenly  became  impa- 
tient of  further  delay.  She  sat  down  in  a  nook  behind 
the  window  curtain,  and  re-read  the  letter  resolutely.  It 
disappointed  her  a  little,  so  she  read  it  again.  The  third 
time  she  liked  it  better  than  the  first;  and  she  would 
have  gone  through  it  yet  again  but  for  the  arrival  of 
Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax,  with  whom  they  had  arranged  to 
go  to  Burlington  House. 

"  It  is  really  a  tax  on  me,  this  first  day  at  the  Academy," 
said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  when  they  were  at  luncheon.  "  I 
have  been  there  at  the  press  view,  besides  seeing  all  the 
pictures  long  ago  in  the  studios.  But,  of  course,  I  am 
expected  to  be  there." 

"  If  I  were  in  your  place,"  said  Elinor,  "  I " 

"  Last  night,"  continued  Mrs.  Fairfax,  deliberately 
ignoring  her,  "  I  was  not  in  bed  until  half-past  two 
o'clock.  On  the  night  before,  I  was  up  until  five.  On 
Tuesday  I  did  not  go  to  bed  at  all." 

"  Why  do  you  do  such  things?  "  said  Marian. 

"  My  dear,  I  must.  John  Metcalf,  the  publisher,  came 
to  me  on  Tuesday  at  three  o'clock,  and  said  he  must 
have  an  article  on  the  mango  experiments  at  Kew  ready 
for  the  printer  before  ten  next  morning.  For  his  paper, 
the  Fortnightly  Naturalist,  you  know.  '  My  dear  John 
Metcalf,'  I  said,  '  I  dont  know  what  a  mango  is.'  '  No 
more  do  I,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax/  said  he:  'I  think  it's 

143 


The   Irrational   Knot 

something  that  blooms  only  once  in  a  hundred  years. 
No  matter  what  it  is,  you  must  let  me  have  the  article. 
Nobody  else  can  do  it.'  I  told  him  it  was  impossible. 
My  London  letter  for  the  Hari  Kari  was  not  even  begun; 
and  the  last  post  to  catch  the  mail  to  Japan  was  at  a 
quarter-past  six  in  the  morning.  I  had  an  article  to 
write  for  your  father,  too.  And,  as  the  sun  had  been 
shining  all  day,  I  was  almost  distracted  with  hay  fever. 
'  If  you  were  to  go  down  on  your  knees/  I  said,  '  I  could 
not  find  time  to  read  up  the  Jlora  of  the  West  Indies 
and  finish  an  article  before  morning.'  He  went  down 
on  his  knees.  '  Now  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax,'  said  he,  '  I 
am  going  to  stay  here  until  you  promise.'  What  coulH 
I  do  but  promise  and  get  rid  of  him?  I  did  it,  too: 
how,  I  dont  know;  but  I  did  it.  John  Metcalf  told  me 
yesterday  that  Sir  James  Hooker,  the  president  of  the 
Society  for  Naturalizing  the  Bread  Fruit  Tree  in  Britain, 
and  the  greatest  living  authority  on  the  subject,  has  got 
the  credit  of  having  written  my  article." 

"  How  flattered  he  must  feel !  "  said  Elinor. 

"  What  article  had  you  to  write  for  papa  ?  "  said  Ma- 
rian. 

"  On  the  electro-motor — the  Conolly  electro-motor.  I 
went  down  to  the  City  on  Wednesday,  and  saw  it  work- 
ing. It  is  most  wonderful,  and  very  interesting.  Mr. 
Conolly  explained  it  to  me  himself.  I  was  able  to  follow 
every  step  that  his  mind  has  made  in  inventing  it.  I 
remember  him  as  a  common  workman.  He  fitted  the 
electric  bell  in  my  study  four  years  ago  with  his  own 
hands.  You  may  remember  that  we  met  him  at  a  con- 
cert once.  He  is  a  thorough  man  of  business.  The 
Company  is  making  upward  of  fifty  pounds  an  hour  by 
the  motor  at  present;  and  they  expect  their  receipts  to  be 

144 


The   Irrational   Knot 

a  thousand  a  day  next  year.  My  article  will  be  in  the 
Dynamic  Statistician  next  week.  Have  you  seen  Sholto 
Douglas  since  he  came  back  from  the  continent  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  want  to  see  him.  When  you  meet  him  next,  tell 
him  to  call  on  me.  Why  has  he  not  been  here  ?  Surely 
you  are  not  keeping  up  your  old  quarrel  ?  " 

"What  old  quarrel?" 

"  I  always  understood  that  he  went  abroad  on  your 
account." 

"  I  never  quarreled  with  him.  Perhaps  he  did  with 
me,  as  he  has  not  come  to  see  us  since  his  return.  It 
used  to  be  so  easy  to  offend  him  that  his  retirement  in 
good  temper  after  a  visit  was  quite  exceptional." 

"Come,  come,  my  dear  child!  that  is  all  nonsense. 
You  must  be  kind  to  the  poor  fellow.  Perhaps  he  will 
be  at  the  Academy." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Marian,  quickly. 

"Why?" 

"  I  mean  if  he  cherishes  any  grudge  against  me;  for 
he  will  be  very  disagreeable." 

"A  grudge  against  you!  Ah,  Marian,  how  little  you 
understand  him !  What  perverse  creatures  all  you  young 
people  are!  I  must  bring  about  an  eclaircissement" 

"  I  advise  you  not  to,"  said  Elinor.  "  If  you  succeed, 
no  one  will  admit  that  you  have  done  anything;  and  if 
you  fail,  everybody  will  blame  you." 

"  But  there  is  nothing  to  be  eclairci,"  said  Marian. 
"  We  are  talking  nonsense,  which  is  silly " 

"And  French,  which  is  vulgar,"  interposed  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch,  delivering  the  remark  like  a  pistol  shot  at  Mrs. 
Fairfax,  who  had  been  trying  to  convey  by  facial  ex- 
pression that  she  pitied  the  folly  of  Elinor's  advice,  and 

145 


The  Irrational   Knot 

was  scandalized  by  her  presumption  in  offering  it  "  It 
is  time  to  start  for  the  Academy." 

When  they  arrived  at  Burlington  House,  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax put  on  her  gold  rimmed  spectacles,  and  led  the  way 
up  the  stairs  like  one  having  important  business  in  a 
place  to  which  others  came  for  pleasure.  When  they 
had  passed  the  turnstiles,  Elinor  halted,  and  said: 

"  There  is  no  sort  of  reason  for  our  pushing  through 
this  crowd  in  a  gang  of  three.  Besides,  I  want  to  look 
at  the  pictures,  and  not  after  you  to  see  which  way  you 
go.  I  shall  meet  you  here  at  six  o'clock,  sharp.  Good- 
bye." 

"  What  an  extraordinary  girl !  "  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  as 
Elinor  opened  her  catalogue  at  the  end,  and  suddenly  dis- 
appeared to  the  right  amongst  the  crowd. 

"  She  always  does  so,"  said  Marian;  "  and  I  think  she 
is  quite  right.  Two  people  cannot  make  their  way  about 
as  easily  as  one;  and  they  never  want  to  see  the  same 
pictures." 

"  But,  my  dear,  consider  the  impropriety  of  a  young 
girl  walking  about  by  herself." 

"  Surely  there  is  no  impropriety  in  it.  Lots  of  people 
— all  sensible  women  do  it.  Who  can  tell,  in  this  crowd, 
whether  you  are  by  yourself  or  not?  And  what  does  it 
matter  if — " 

Here  Mrs.  Fairfax's  attention  was  diverted  by  the  ap- 
proach of  one  of  her  numerous  acquaintances.  Marian, 
after  a  moment's  indecision,  slipped  away  and  began  her 
tour  of  the  rooms  alone,  passing  quickly  through  the  first 
in  order  to  escape  pursuit.  In  the  second  she  tried  to  look 
at  the  pictures;  but  as  she  now  for  the  first  time  realized 
that  she  might  meet  Conolly  at  any  moment,  doubt  as  to 
ivhat  answer  she  should  give  him  seized  her;  and  she 

146 


The  Irrational   Knot 

felt  a  strong  impulse  to  fly.  The  pictures  were  unintel- 
ligible to  her:  she  kept  her  face  turned  to  the  inharmo- 
nious shew  of  paint  and  gilding  only  because  she  shrank 
from  looking  at  the  people  about.  Whenever  she  stood 
still,  and  any  man  approached  and  remained  near  her, 
she  contemplated  the  wall  fixedly,  and  did  not  dare  to 
look  round  or  even  to  stir  until  he  moved  away,  lest  he 
should  be  Conolly.  When  she  passed  from  the  second 
room  to  the  large  one,  she  felt  as  though  she  were  mak- 
ing a  tremendous  plunge;  and  indeed  the  catastrophe 
occurred  before  she  had  accomplished  the  movement,  for 
she  came  suddenly  face  to  face  with  him  in  the  doorway. 
He  did  not  flinch :  he  raised  his  hat,  and  prepared  to  pass 
on.  She  involuntarily  put  out  her  hand  in  remonstrance. 
He  took  it  as  a  gift  at  once;  and  she,  confused,  said 
anxiously :  "  We  must  not  stand  in  the  doorway.  The 
people  cannot  pass  us,"  as  if  her  action  had  meant  noth- 
ing more  than  an  attempt  to  draw  him  out  of  the  way. 
Then,  perceiving  the  absurdity  of  this  pretence,  she  was 
quite  lost  for  a  moment.  When  she  recovered  her  self- 
possession  they  were  standing  together  in  the  less 
thronged  space  near  a  bust  of  the  Queen;  and  Con- 
oily  was  saying: 

"  I  have  been  here  half  an  hour;  and  I  have  not  seen 
a  single  picture." 

"  Nor  I,"  she  said  timidly,  looking  down  at  her  cata- 
logue. "  Shall  we  try  to  see  some  now  ?  " 

He  opened  his  catalogue;  and  they  turned  together 
toward  the  pictures  and  were  soon  discussing  them  sedu- 
lously, as  if  they  wished  to  shut  out  the  subject  of  the 
very  recent  crisis  in  their  affairs,  which  was  nevertheless 
constantly  present  in  their  minds.  Marian  was  saluted 
by  many  acquaintances.  At  each  encounter  she  made 

147 


The   Irrational   Knot 

an  effort  to  appear  unconcerned,  and  suffered  immedi- 
ately afterward  from  a  suspicion  that  the  effort  had  de- 
feated its  own  object,  as  such  efforts  often  do.  Conolly 
had  something  to  say  about  most  of  the  pictures:  gener- 
ally an  unanswerable  objection  to  some  historical  or 
technical  inaccuracy,  which  sometimes  convinced  her, 
and  always  impressed  her  with  a  confiding  sense  of  ig- 
norance in  herself  and  infallible  judgment  in  him. 

"  I  think  we  have  done  enough  for  one  day,"  she  said 
at  last.^  "  The  watercolors  and  the  sculpture  must  wait 
until  next  time." 

"  We  had  better  watch  for  a  vacant  seat.  You  must 
be  tired." 

"  I  am,  a  little.  I  think  I  should  like  to  sit  in  some 
other  room.  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  is  over  there  with  Mr. 
Douglas — a  gentleman  whom  I  know  and  would  rather 
not  meet  just  now.  You  saw  him  at  Wandsworth." 

"  Yes.  That  tall  man  ?  He  has  let  his  beard  grow 
since." 

"  That  is  he.  Let  us  go  to  the  room  where  the  draw- 
ings are:  we  shall  have  a  better  chance  of  a  seat  there. 
I  have  not  seen  Sholto  for  two  years;  and  our  last  meet- 
ing was  rather  a  stormy  one." 

"What  happened?" 

Marian  was  a  little  hurt  by  being  questioned.  She 
missed  the  reticence  of  a  gentleman.  Then  she  re- 
proached herself  for  not  understanding  that  his  frank 
curiosity  was  a  delicate  appeal  to  her  confidence  in  him, 
and  answered :  "  He  proposed  to  me." 

Conolly  immediately  dropped  the  subject,  and  went  in 
search  of  a  vacant  seat.  They  found  one  in  the  little 
room  where  the  architects'  drawings  languish.  They 
were  silent  for  some  time. 

148 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Then  he  began,  seriously :  "  Is  it  too  soon  to  call  you 
by  your  own  name?  '  Miss  Lind '  is  distant;  but  '  Ma- 
rian '  might  shock  you  if  it  came  too  confidently  without 
preparation." 

"  Whichever  you  please." 

"  Whichever  I  please !  " 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  being  a  woman.  Little  speeches 
that  are  sheer  coquetry  when  you  analyze  them,  come  to 
our  lips  and  escape  even  when  we  are  most  anxious  to 
be  straightforward." 

"  In  the  same  way,"  said  Conolly,  "  the  most  enlight- 
ened men  often  express  themselves  in  a  purely  conven- 
tional manner  on  subjects  on  which  they  have  the  deepest 
convictions."  This  sententious  utterance  had  the  effect 
of  extinguishing  the  conversation  for  some  moments,  Ma- 
rian being  unable  to  think  of  a  worthy  rejoinder.  At  last 
she  said : 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Edward,  or,  familiarly,  Ned.  Commonly  Ted.  In 
America,  Ed.  With,  of  course,  the  diminutives  Neddy, 
Teddy,  and  Eddy." 

"  I  think  I  should  prefer  Ned." 

"  I  prefer  Ned  myself." 

"  Have  you  any  other  name  ?  " 

"  Yes;  but  it  is  a  secret.  Why  people  should  be  plagued 
with  two  Christian  names,  I  do  not  know.  No  one 
would  have  believed  in  the  motor  if  they  had  known 
that  my  name  was  Sebastian." 

"  Sebastian !  " 

"  Hush.  I  was  actually  christened  Edoardo  Sebasti- 
ano  Conolly.  My  father  used  to  spell  his  name  Conollj 
whilst  he  was  out  of  Italy.  I  have  frustrated  the  bounty 

149 


The   Irrational   Knot 

of  my  godfathers  by  suppressing  all  but  the  sensible 
Edward  Conolly." 

There  was  a  pause.     Then  Marian  spoke. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  make  our — our  engagement  known 
at  once  ?  " 

"  I  have  considered  the  point;  and  as  you  are  the 
person  likely  to  be  inconvenienced  by  its  publication,  I 
am  bound  to  let  you  conceal  it  for  the  present,  if  you  wish 
to.  It  must  transpire  sometime:  the  sooner  the  better. 
You  will  feel  uncomfortably  deceitful  with  such  a  secret ; 
and  as  for  me,  every  time  your  father  greets  me  cordially 
in  the  City  I  shall  feel  mean.  However,  you  can  watch 
for  your  opportunity.  Let  me  know  at  once  when  the 
cat  comes  out  of  the  bag." 

"  I  will.  I  think,  as  you  say,  the  right  course  is  to  tell 
at  once." 

"  Undoubtedly.  But  from  the  moment  you  do  so  until 
we  are  married  you  will  be  worried  by  remonstrances, 
entreaties,  threats,  and  what  not;  so  that  we  cannot 
possibly  make  that  interval  too  short." 

"  We  must  take  Nelly  into  our  confidence.  You  will 
not  object  to  that?" 

"  Certainly  not.     I  like  Miss  McQuinch." 

"  You  really  do !  Oh,  I  am  so  glad.  Well,  we  are 
accustomed  to  go  about  together,  especially  to  picture 
galleries.  We  can  come  to  the  Academy  as  often  as  we 
like;  and  you  can  come  as  often  as  you  like,  can  you  not?  " 

"  Opening  day,  for  instance." 

"  Yes,  if  you  wish." 

"  Let  us  say  between  half-past  four  and  five,  then.  I 
would  willingly  be  here  when  the  doors  open  in  the 
morning;  but  my  business  will  not  do  itself  while  I  am 
philandering  and  making  you  tired  of  me  before  your 


The  Irrational   Knot 

time.  The  consciousness  of  having  done  a  day's  work 
is  necessary  to  my  complete  happiness." 

"  I,  too,  have  my  day's  work  to  do,  silly  as  it  is.  I 
have  to  housekeep,  to  receive  visitors,  to  write  notes 
about  nothing,  and  to  think  of  the  future.  We  can  say 
half-past  four  or  any  later  hour  that  may  suit  you." 

"Agreed.     And  now,  Marian " 

"  Dont  let  me  disturb  you,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  at 
his  elbow,  to  Marian;  "  but  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  will  be 
here  with  Sholto  Douglas  presently;  and  I  thought  you 
might  like  to  have  an  opportunity  of  avoiding  him.  How 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Conolly  ?  " 

"  I  must  see  him  sooner  or  later,"  said  Marian,  rising. 
"  Better  face  him  at  once  and  get  it  over.  I  will  go 
back  by  myself  and  meet  them."  Then,  with  a  smile  at 
Conolly,  she  went  out  through  the  door  leading  to  the 
water-color  gallery. 

"  Marian  does  not  stand  on  much  ceremony  with  you, 
Mr.  Conolly,"  said  Miss  McQuinch,  glancing  at  him. 

"No,"  said  Conolly.  "Do  you  think  you  could  face 
the  Academy  again  on  Monday  at  half-past  four?  " 

"Why?" 

"  Miss  Lind  is  coming  to  meet  me  here  at  that  hour." 

"  Marian !  " 

"  Precisely.  Marian.  She  has  promised  to  marry  me. 
At  present  it  is  a  secret.  But  it  was  to  be  mentioned 
to  you." 

"  It  will  not  be  a  secret  very  long  if  you  allow  people 
to  overhear  you  calling  her  by  her  Christian  name  in  the 
middle  of  the  Academy,  as  you  did  me  just  now,"  said 
Elinor,  privately  much  taken  aback,  but  resolute  not  to 
appear  so. 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Did  you  overhear  us  ?  I  should  have  been  more 
careful.  You  do  not  seem  surprised." 

"  Just  a  little,  at  your  audacity.  Not  in  the  least  at 
Marian's  consenting." 

"  Thank  you." 

"  I  did  not  mean  it  in  that  way  at  all,"  said  Elinor 
resentfully.  "  I  think  you  have  been  very  fortunate, 
as  I  suppose  you  would  have  married  somebody  in  any 
case.  I  believe  you  are  able  to  appreciate  her.  That's 
a  compliment." 

"  Yes.  I  hope  I  deserve  it.  Do  you  think  you  will 
ever  forgive  me  for  supplanting  the  hero  Marian  de- 
serves ?  " 

"  If  you  had  let  your  chance  of  her  slip,  I  should  have 
despised  you,  I  think :  at  least,  I  should  if  you  had  missed 
it  with  your  eyes  open.  I  am  so  far  prejudiced  in  your 
favor  that  I  think  Marian  would  not  like  you  unless  you 
were  good.  I  have  known  her  to  pity  people  who  deserved 
to  be  strangled;  but  I  never  knew  her  to  be  attracted  by 
any  unworthy  person  except  myself ;  and  even  I  have  my 
good  points.  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  to  agree 
with  me:  you  could  not  do  less,  in  common  politeness. 
As  I  am  rather  tired,  I  shall  go  and  sit  in  the  vestibule 
until  the  others  are  ready  to  go  home.  In  the  meantime 
you  can  tell  me  all  the  particulars  you  care  to  trust  me 
with.  Marian  will  tell  me  the  rest  when  we  go  home." 

"  That  is  an  undeserved  stab,"  said  Conolly. 

"  Never  mind :  I  am  always  stabbing  people.  I  sup- 
pose I  like  it,"  she  added,  as  they  went  together  to  the 
vestibule. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  had  not  been  wasting 
her  time.  She  had  come  upon  Douglas  in  the  large 
room,  and  had  recognized  him  by  his  stature  and  proud 

152 


The   Irrational   Knot 

bearing,  in  spite  of  the  handsome  Assyrian  beard  he  had 
allowed  to  grow  during  his  stay  abroad. 

"  I  have  been  very  anxious  to  see  you,"  said  she, 
forcing  a  conversation  upon  him,  though  he  had  saluted 
her  formally,  and  had  evidently  intended  to  pass  on  with- 
out speaking.  "  If  your  time  were  not  too  valuable  to 
be  devoted  to  a  poor  hard-working  woman,  I  should  have 
asked  you  to  call  on  me.  Dont  deprecate  my  forbear- 
ance. You  are  Somebody  in  the  literary  world  now." 

"  Indeed  ?  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had  done  anything 
to  raise  me  from  obscurity." 

"  I  assure  you  you  are  very  much  mistaken,  or  else 
very  modest.  Has  no  one  told  you  about  the  effect  your 
book  produced  here  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  it,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  I  never 
enquire  after  the  effect  of  my  work.  I  have  lived  in 
comparative  seclusion;  and  I  scarcely  know  what  col- 
lection of  fugitive  notes  of  mine  you  honor  by  describing 
as  a  book." 

"  I  mean  your  '  Note  on  three  pictures  in  last  year's 
Salon,'  with  the  sonnets,  and  the  fragment  from  your 
unfinished  drama.  Is  it  finished,  may  I  ask  ?  ' 

"  It  is  not  finished.     I  shall  never  finish  it  now." 

"  I  will  tell  you — between  ourselves — that  I  heard  one 
of  the  foremost  critics  of  the  age  say,  in  the  presence  of 
a  great  poet  (whom  we  both  know),  that  it  was  such 
another  fragment  as  the  Venus  of  Milo,  '  whose  lost 
arms,'  said  he,  '  we  should  fear  to  see,  lest  they  should 
be  unworthy  of  her.'  '  You  are  right,'  said  the  poet:  '  I, 
for  one,  should  shudder  to  see  the  fragment  completed.' 
That  is  a  positive  fact.  But  look  at  some  of  the  sonnets ! 
Burgraves  says  that  his  collection  of  English  sonnets  is 
incomplete  because  it  does  not  contain  your  '  Clytem- 

153 


The  Irrational  Knot 

nestra,'  which  he  had  not  seen  when  his  book  went  to 
press.  You  stand  in  the  very  forefront  of  literature — 
far  higher  than  I,  who  am — dont  tell  anybody — five  years 
older  than  you." 

"  You  are  very  good.  I  do  not  value  any  distinction 
of  the  sort.  I  write  sometimes  because,  I  suppose,  the 
things  that  are  in  me  must  come  out,  whether  I  will  or 
not.  Let  us  talk  of  something  else.  You  are  quite  well 
I  hope?" 

"  Very  far  from  it.  I  am  never  well ;  but  since  I  never 
have  a  moment's  rest  from  work,  I  must  bear  with  it. 
People  expect  me  to  think,  when  I  have  hardly  time  to 
eat." 

"  If  you  have  no  time  to  think,  I  envy  you.  But  I  am 
truly  sorry  that  your  health  remains  so  bad." 

"  Thank  you.  But  what  is  the  cause  of  all  this  gloomy 
cynicism,  Mr.  Douglas?  Why  should  you,  who  are 
young,  distinguished,  gifted,  and  already  famous,  envy 
me  for  having  no  leisure  to  think  ?  " 

"  You  exaggerate  the  sadness  of  my  unfortunate  in- 
sensibility to  the  admiration  of  the  crowd,"  said  Douglas, 
coldly.  "  I  am,  nevertheless,  flattered  by  the  interest  you 
take  in  my  affairs." 

"  You  need  not  be,  Mr.  Douglas,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax, 
earnestly,  fearing  that  he  would  presently  succeed  in  re- 
buffing her.  "  I  think  you  are  much  better  off  than  you 
deserve.  You  may  despise  your  reputation  as  much  as 
you  like:  that  only  affects  yourself.  But  when  a  beauti- 
ful girl  pays  you  the  compliment  of  almost  dying  of  love 
for  you,  I  think  you  ought  to  buy  a  wedding-ring  and 
jump  for  joy,  instead  of  sulking  in  remote  corners  of  the 
continent." 

154 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"And  pray,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax,  what  lady  has  so 
honored  me  ?  " 

"  You  must  know,  unless  you  are  blind." 

"  Pardon  me.  I  do  not  habitually  imply  what  is  not 
the  case.  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  do  not  know." 

"  Not  know !     What  moles  men  are !     Poor  Marian !  " 

"  Oblige  me  by  taking  this  seat,"  said  Douglas,  sternly, 
pointing  to  one  just  vacated.  "  I  shall  not  detain  you 
many  minutes,"  he  added,  sitting  down  beside  her.  "  May 
I  understand  that  Miss  Lind  is  the  lady  of  whom  you 
spoke  just  now?" 

"  Yes.  Remember  that  I  am  speaking  to  you  as  a 
friend,  and  that  I  trust  to  you  not  to  mention  the  effort 
I  am  making  to  clear  up  the  misunderstanding  which 
causes  her  so  much  unhappiness." 

"  Are  you  then  in  Miss  Lind's  confidence  ?  Did  she 
ask  you  to  tell  me  this  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Douglas  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  innocent  of  any  desire  to  shock  or  offend 
you,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  Does  your  question  imply  a 
negative  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly.  Marian  ask  me  to  tell !  you  must 
be  dreaming.  Do  you  think,  even  if  Marian  were  cap- 
able of  making  an  advance,  that  /  would  consent  to  act 
as  a  go-between?  Really,  Mr.  Douglas!" 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  these  matters;  and  you 
must  bear  with  my  ineptitude.  If  Miss  Lind  entertains 
any  sentiment  for  me  but  one  of  mistrust  and  aversion, 
her  behavior  is  singularly  misleading." 

"  Mistrust !  Aversion !  I  tell  you  she  is  in  love  with 
you." 

"  But  you  have  not,  you  admit,  her  authority  for  say- 
ing so,  whereas  I  have  her  authority  for  the  contrary." 

155 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  You  do  not  understand  girls.     You  are  mistaken." 

"  Possibly ;  but  you  must  pardon  me  if  I  hesitate  to  set 
aside  my  own  judgment  in  deference  to  your  low  esti- 
mate of  it." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  her  patience  yielding 
a  little  to  his  persistent  stiffness:  "  be  it  so.  Many  men 
would  be  glad  to  beg  what  you  will  not  be  bribed  to 
accept." 

"  No  doubt.  I  trust  that  when  they  so  humble  them- 
selves they  may  not  encounter  a  flippant  repulse." 

"If  they  do,  it  will  spring  from  her  unmerited  regard 
for  you." 

He  bowed  slightly,  and  turned  away,  arranging  his 
gloves  as  if  about  to  rise. 

"  Pray  what  is  that  large  picture  which  is  skied  over 
there  to  the  right  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  after  a  pause, 
during  which  she  had  feigned  to  examine  her  catalogue. 
"  I  cannot  see  the  number  at  this  distance." 

"  Do  you  defend  her  conduct  on  the  ground  of  that 
senseless  and  cruel  caprice  which  your  sex  seem  to  con- 
sider becoming  to  them;  or  has  she  changed  her  mind 
in  my  absence  ?  " 

"  Oh !  you  are  talking  of  Marian.  I  do  not  know  what 
you  have  to  complain  of  in  her  conduct.  Mind,  she  has 
never  breathed  a  word  to  me  on  the  subject.  I  am  quite 
ignorant  of  the  details  of  your  difference  with  her.  But 
she  has  confessed  to  me  that  she  is  very  sorry  for  what 
passed — I  am  abusing  her  confidence  by  telling  you  so — 
and  I  am  a  woman,  with  eyes  and  brains,  and  know  what 
the  poor  girl  feels  well  enough.  I  will  tell  you  nothing 
more :  I  have  no  right  to;  and  Marian  would  be  indignant 
if  she  knew  how  much  I  have  said  already.  But  I  know 
what  I  should  do  were  I  in  your  place." 

156 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Expose  myself  to  another  refusal,  perhaps  ?  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  learning  now  for  the  first  time  that  he 
had  actually  proposed  to  Marian,  looked  at  him  for  some 
moments  in  silence  with  a  smile  which  was  assumed  to 
cover  her  surprise.  He  thought  it  expressed  incredulity 
at  the  idea  of  his  being  refused  again. 

"Are  you  sure  ?  "  he  began,  speaking  courteously  to 
her  for  the  first  time.  "  May  I  rely  upon  the  accuracy 
of  your  impressions  on  this  subject?  I  know  you  are  in- 
capable of  trifling  in  a  matter  which  might  expose  me 
to  humiliation;  but  can  you  give  me  any  guarantee — 
any—" 

"  Certainly  not,  Mr.  Douglas.  I  am  really  sorry  that 
I  cannot  give  you  a  written  undertaking  that  your  suit 
shall  succeed :  perhaps  that  might  encourage  you  to  brave 
the  scorn  of  a  poor  child  who  adores  you.  But  if  you 
need  so  much  encouragement,  I  fear  you  do  not  greatly 
relish  the  prospect  of  success.  Doubtless  it  has  already 
struck  her  that  since  you  found  absence  from  her  very 
bearable  for  two  years,  and  have  avoided  meeting  her  on 
your  return,  her  society  cannot  be  very  important  to  your 
happiness." 

"  But  it  was  her  own  fault.  If  she  accuses  me  of 
having  gone  away  to  enjoy  myself,  her  thoughts  are  a 
bitter  sarcasm  on  the  truth." 

"  Granted  that  it  was  her  own  fault,  if  you  please. 
But  surely  you  have  punished  her  enough  by  your  long 
seclusion,  and  can  afford  to  shew  a  tardy  magnanimity 
by  this  time.  There  she  is,  I  think,  just  come  in  at  the 
door  on  the  left.  My  sight  is  so  wretched.  Is  it  not 
she?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  let  us  get  up  and  speak  to  her.     Come." 

157 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  I  have 
distinctly  given  her  my  word  that  I  will  not  intrude  upon 
her  again." 

"  Dont  be  so  foolish." 

Douglas's  face  clouded.  "  You  are  privileged  to  say 
so,"  he  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Mrs.  Fairfax,  frightened.  "But 
when  I  think  of  Marian,  I  feel  like  an  old  woman,  and 
venture  to  remonstrate  with  all  the  presumption  of  age. 
I  beg  your  pardon." 

He  bowed.  Then  Marian  joined  them,  and  Mrs.  Fair- 
fax again  gave  tongue. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  she  cried.  "  You  vanished 
from  my  side  like  a  sprite.  I  have  been  searching  for 
you  ever  since." 

"  I  have  been  looking  at  the  pictures,  of  course.  I  am 
so  glad  you  have  come  back,  Sholto.  I  think  you  might 
have  made  time  to  pay  us  a  visit  before  this.  You  look 
so  strong  and  well !  Your  beard  is  a  great  improvement. 
Have  you  met  Nelly  ?  " 

"  I  think  we  saw  her  at  some  distance,"  said  Douglas. 
"  I  have  not  been  speaking  to  her." 

"  How  did  you  enjoy  yourself  while  you  were  away  ?  " 

"As  best  I  could." 

"  You  look  as  if  you  had  succeeded  very  fairly.  What 
o'clock  is  it?  Remember  that  we  have  to  meet  Nelly  at 
the  turnstiles  at  six." 

"  It  is  five  minutes  to  six  now,  Miss  Lind." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Douglas.  We  had  better  go,  I 
think." 

As  they  left  the  room,  Mrs.  Fairfax  purposely  lingered 
behind  them. 

158 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"Am  I  right  in  concluding  that  you  are  as  frivolous 
as  ever,  Marian  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Quite,"  she  replied.  "  To-day  especially  so.  I  am 
very  happy  to-day." 

"May  I  ask  why?" 

"  Something  has  happened.  I  will  tell  you  what  it  is 
some  day  perhaps,  but  not  now.  Something  that  realizes 
a  romantic  dream  of  mine.  The  dream  has  been  hover- 
ing vaguely  about  me  for  nearly  two  years;  but  I  never 
ventured  to  teach  myself  exactly  what  it  was  until 
to-day." 

"  Realized  here  ?     in  the  Academy  ?  " 

"  It  was  foreshadowed — promised,  at  home  this  morn- 
ing; but  it  was  realized  here." 

"  Did  you  know  beforehand  that  I  was  coming  ?  " 

"  Not  until  to-day.  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  said  that  you 
would  most  likely  be  here." 

"And  you  are  happy  ?  " 

"  So  much  so  that  I  cannot  help  talking  about  my  hap- 
piness to  you,  who  are  the  very  last  person — as  you  will 
admit  when  everything  is  explained — to  whom  I  should 
unlock  my  lips  on  the  subject." 

"And  why  ?    Am  I  not  interested  in  your  happiness  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  hope  so.  But  when  you  learn  the 
truth,  you  will  be  more  astonished  than  gratified." 

"  I  dare  swear  that  you  are  mistaken.  Is  this  dream 
of  yours  an  affair  of  the  heart  ?  " 

"  Now  you  are  beginning  to  ask  questions." 

"  Well,  I  will  ask  no  more  at  present.  But  if  you 
fear  that  my  long  absence  has  rendered  me  indifferent 
in  the  least  degree  to  your  happiness,  you  do  me  a  great 
injustice." 

159 


The   Irrational    Knot 

"  Well,  you  were  not  in  a  very  good  humor  with  me 
when  you  went  away." 

"  I  will  forget  that  if  you  wish  me  to." 

"  I  do  wish  you  to  forget  it.     And  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly." 

"  Then  we  are  the  best  friends  in  the  world  again. 
This  is  a  great  deal  better  than  meeting  and  pretending 
to  ignore  the  very  thing  of  which  our  minds  are  full. 
You  will  not  delay  visiting  us  any  longer  now,  I  hope." 

"  I  will  call  on  your  father  to-morrow  morning. 
May  I?" 

"  He  is  out  of  town  until  Monday.  He  will  be  de- 
lighted to  see  you  then.  He  has  been  talking  to  me 
about  you  a  great  deal  of  late.  But  if  you  want  to  see 
him  in  the  morning  you  had  better  go  to  the  club.  I 
will  write  to  him  to-night  if  you  like ;  so  that  he  can  write 
to  you  and  make  an  appointment." 

"  Do.  Ah,  Marian,  instinct  is  better  and  truer  than 
intellect.  I  have  been  for  two  years  trying  to  believe  all 
kinds  of  evil  of  you;  and  yet  I  knew  all  the  time  that 
you  were  an  angel." 

Marian  laughed.  "  I  suppose  that  under  our  good  un- 
derstanding I  must  let  you  say  pretty  things  to  me.  You 
must  write  me  a  sonnet  before  your  enthusiasm  evapo- 
rates. I  am  sure  I  deserve  it  as  well  as  Clytemnestra." 

"  I  will.  But  I  fear  I  shall  tear  it  up  for  its  unworthi- 
ness  afterward." 

"  Dont :  I  am  not  a  critic.  Talking  of  critics,  where 
has  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  gone  to  ?  Oh,  there  she  is  J  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax  came  up  when  she  saw  Marian  look 
round  for  her.  "My  dear,"  she  said:  "it  is  past  six. 
We  must  go.  Elinor  may  be  waiting  for  us." 

They  found  Elinor  seated  in  the  vestibule  with  Conolly, 

160 


The  Irrational   Knot 

at  whom  Mrs.  Fairfax  plunged,  full  of  words.  Conolly 
and  Douglas,  introduced  to  one  another  by  Marian,  grave- 
ly raised  their  hats.  When  they  had  descended  the  stairs, 
they  stood  in  a  group  near  one  of  the  doors  whilst 
Conolly  went  aside  to  get  their  umbrellas.  Just  then 
Marmaduke  Lind  entered  the  building,  and  halted  in 
surprise  at  finding  himself  among  so  many  acquaintances. 

"  Hallo !  "  he  cried,  seizing  Douglas's  hand,  and  at- 
tracting the  attention  of  the  bystanders  by  his  boisterous 
tone.  "  Here  you  are  again,  old  man !  Delighted  to  see 
you.  Didnt  spot  you  at  first,  in  the  beard.  George 
told  me  you  were  back.  I  met  your  mother  in  Knights- 
bridge  last  Thursday;  but  she  pretended  not  to  see  me. 
How  have  you  enjoyed  yourself  abroad,  eh?  Very 
much  in  the  old  style,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Douglas.  "  I  trust  your  people 
are  quite  well." 

"  Hang  me  if  I  know!"  said  Marmaduke.  "  I  have 
not  troubled  them  much  of  late.  How  d'ye  do,  Mrs. 
Leith  Fairfax  ?  How  are  all  the  celebrities  ? "  Mrs. 
Fairfax  bowed  coldly. 

"  Dont  roar  so,  Marmaduke,"  said  Marian.  "  Every- 
body is  looking  at  you." 

"  Everybody  is  welcome,"  said  Marmaduke,  loudly. 
"  Douglas:  you  must  come  and  see  me.  By  Jove,  now 
that  I  think  of  it,  come  and  see  me,  all  of  you.  I  am  by 
myself  on  week-nights  from  six  to  twelve;  and  I  should 
enjoy  a  housewarming.  If  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  comes,  it 
will  be  all  proper  and  right.  Let  us  have  a  regular  party." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  looked  indignantly  at  him.  Elinor 
looked  round  anxiously  for  Conolly.  Marian,  struck 
with  the  same  fear,  moved  toward  the  door. 

"  Here,  Marmaduke,"  she  said,  offering  him  her  hand. 

161 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Good-bye.  You  are  in  one  of  your  outrageous  humors 
this  afternoon." 

"  What  am  I  doing?"  he  replied.  "  I  am  behaving 
myself  perfectly.  Let  us  settle  about  the  party  before 
we  go." 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Lind,"  said  Conolly,  coming  up 
to  them  with  the  umbrellas.  "  This  is  yours,  I  think, 
Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax." 

"  Good  evening,"  said  Marmaduke,  subsiding.  "  I 

Well,  you  are  all  off,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Quite  time  for  us,  I  think,"  said  Elinor.  "  Good- 
bye." 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  with  a  second  and  more  distant  bow, 
passed  out  with  Conolly  and  Douglas.  Elinor  waited  a 
moment  to  whisper  to  Marmaduke. 

"  First  rate,"  said  Marmaduke,  in  reply  to  the  whisper ; 
"  and  beginning  to  talk  like  one  o'clock.  Oh  yes,  I  tell 
you ! "  He  shook  Elinor's  hand  at  such  length  in  his 
gratitude  for  the  inquiry  that  she  was  much  relieved 
when  a  servant  in  livery  interrupted  him. 

"  Missus  wants  to  speak  to  you,  sir,  afore  she  goes," 
said  the  man. 

Elinor  shook  her  head  at  Marmaduke,  and  hurried 
away  to  rejoin  the  rest  outside.  As  they  went  through 
the  courtyard,  they  passed  an  open  carriage,  in  which 
reclined  a  pretty  woman  with  dark  eyes  and  delicate 
artificial  complexion.  Her  beauty  and  the  elegance  of 
her  dress  attracted  their  attention.  Suddenly  Marian 
became  aware  that  Conolly  was  watching  her  as  she 
looked  at  the  woman  in  the  carriage.  She  was  about  to 
say  something,  when,  to  her  bewilderment,  Elinor  nudged 
her.  Then  she  understood  too,  and  looked  solemnly  at 
Susanna.  Susanna,  observing  her,  stared  insolently  in 

162 


The   Irrational   Knot 

return,  and  Marian  averted  her  head  like  a  guilty  person 
and  hurried  on.  Conolly  saw  it  all,  and  did  not  speak 
until  they  rejoined  Mrs.  Fairfax  and  Douglas  in  Picca- 
dilly. 

"  How  do  you  propose  to  go  home?  "  said  Douglas. 

"  Walk  to  St.  James's  Street,  where  the  carriage  is 
waiting  at  the  club;  take  Uncle  Reginald  with  us;  and 
drive  home  through  the  park,"  said  Elinor. 

"  I  will  come  with  you  as  far  as  the  club,  if  you  will 
allow  me,"  said  Douglas. 

Conolly  then  took  leave  of  them,  and  stood  still  until 
they  disappeared,  when  he  returned  to  the  courtyard, 
and  went  up  to  his  sister's  carriage. 

"  Well,  Susanna,"  said  he.     "  How  are  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  the  matter  with  me,"  she  re- 
plied carelessly,  her  eyes  rilling  with  tears,  nevertheless. 

"  I  hear  that  I  have  been  an  uncle  for  some  time  past." 

"  Yes,  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  blanket." 

"  What  is  its  name  ?  "  he  said  more  gravely. 

"  Lucy." 

"  Is  it  quite  well  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  not.     According  to  Nurse,  it  is  always  ill." 

Conolly  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  relapsed  into  the 
cynical  manner  in  which  he  had  used  to  talk  with  his 
sister.  "  Tired  of  it  already  ?  "  he  said.  "  Poor  little 
wretch !  " 

"  It  is  very  well  off,"  she  retorted,  angrily :  "  a  pre- 
cious deal  better  than  I  was  at  its  age.  It  gets  petting 
enough  from  its  father,  heaven  knows !  He  has  nothing 
else  to  do.  I  have  to  work." 

"  You  have  it  all  your  own  way  at  the  theatre  now, 
I  suppose.  You  are  quite  famous." 

163 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"Yes,"  she  said,  bitterly.  "We  are  both  celebrities. 
Rather  different  from  old  times." 

"  We  certainly  used  to  get  more  kicks  than  halfpence. 
However,  let  us  hope  all  that  is  over  now." 

"  Who  were  those  women  who  were  with  you  a 
minute  ago  ?  " 

"  Cousins  of  Lind.  Miss  Marian  Lind  and  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch." 

"  I  remember.  She  is  pretty.  I  suppose,  as  usual, 
she  hasnt  an  idea  to  bless  herself  with.  The  other  looks 
more  of  a  devil.  Now  that  you  are  a  great  man,  why 
dont  you  marry  a  swell  ?  " 

"  I  intend  to  do  so." 

"  The  Lord  help  her  then !  " 

"  Amen.     Good-bye."  . 

"  Oh,  good-bye.  Go  on  to  Soho,"  she  added,  to  the 
coachman,  settling  herself  fretfully  on  the  cushions. 


164 


CHAPTER   IX 

ON  Monday  morning  Douglas  received  a  note 
inviting  him  to  lunch  at  Mr.  Lind's  club.  He 
had  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  previous  night 
composing  a  sonnet,  which  he  carried  with  him  in  his 
pocket  to  St.  James's  Street.  Mr.  Lind  received  him  cor- 
dially; listened  to  an  account  of  his  recent  stay  abroad; 
and  described  his  own  continental  excursions,  both  gen- 
tlemen expressing  great  interest  at  such  coincidences 
as  their  having  put  up  at  the  same  hotel  or  travelled  by 
the  same  line  of  railway.  When  luncheon  was  over,  Mr. 
Lind  proposed  that  they  should  retire  to  the  smoking- 
room. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  a  few  words  with  you  first,  as 
we  are  alone  here,"  said  Douglas. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  assuming  a  mild  dignity 
in  anticipation  of  being  appealed  to  as  a  parent.  "  Cer- 
tainly, Sholto." 

"  What  I  have  to  say,  coming  so  soon  after  my  long 
absence,  will  probably  surprise  you.  I  had  it  in  con- 
templation before  my  departure,  and  was  only  prevented 
from  broaching  it  to  you  then  by  circumstances  which 
have  happily  since  lost  their  significance.  When  I  tell 
you  that  my  communication  has  reference  to  Marian, 
you  will  perhaps  guess  its  nature." 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Mr.  Lind,  affecting  surprise.  "  Well, 
Sholto,  if  it  be  so,  you  have  my  heartiest  approval.  You 
know  what  a  lonely  life  her  marriage  will  entail  on  me; 
so  you  will  not  expect  me  to  consent  without  a  few 
regrets.  But  I  could  not  desire  a  better  settlement  for 

165 


The   Irrational   Knot 

0 

her.  She  must  leave  me  some  day.  I  have  no  right  to 
complain." 

"  We  shall  not  be  very  far  asunder,  I  hope;  and  it  is 
in  Marian's  nature  to  form  many  ties,  but  to  break  none." 

"  She  is  an  amiable  girl,  my — my  darling  child.  Does 
she  know  anything  of  this  ?  " 

"  I  am  here  at  her  express  request ;  and  there  remains 
to  me  the  pleasure  of  getting  her  own  final  consent, 
which  I  would  not  press  for  until  armed  with  your 
sanction." 

Except  for  an  involuntary  hitch  of  his  eyelids,  Mr. 
Lind  looked  as  if  he  believed  perfectly  in  Douglas's  re- 
spect for  his  parental  claims.  "  Quite  right,"  he  said, 
"  quite  right.  You  have  my  best  wishes.  I  have  no 
doubt  you  will  succeed:  none.  There  are,  of  course,  a 
few  affairs  to  be  settled — a  few  contingencies  to  be  pro- 
vided for  —  children  —  accidents  —  and  so  forth.  No 
difficulty  is  likely  to  arise  between  us  on  that  score ;  but 
still,  these  things  have  to  be  arranged." 

"  I  propose  a  very  simple  method  of  arranging  them. 
You  are  a  man  of  honor,  and  more  conversant  with 
business  than  I.  Give  me  your  instructions.  My  lawyer 
shall  have  them  within  half  an  hour." 

"  That  is  said  like  a  gentleman  and  a  Douglas,  Sholto. 
But  I  must  consider  before  giving  you  an  answer.  You 
have  thrown  upon  me  the  duty  of  studying  your  position 
as  well  as  Marian's ;  and  I  must  neither  abuse  your  gen- 
erosity nor  neglect  her  interest." 

"  You  will,  nevertheless,  allow  me  to  consider  the  con- 
ditions as  settled,  since  I  leave  them  entirely  in  your 
hands." 

"  My  own  means  have  been  seriously  crippled  by  the 
extravagance  of  Reginald.  Indeed  both  my  boys  have 

166 


The   Irrational   Knot 

cost  me  much  money.  I  had  not,  like  you,  the  good 
fortune  to  be  an  only  son.  I  was  the  fourth  son  of  a 
younger  son:  there  was  very  little  left  for  me.  I  will 
treat  Marian  as  liberally  as  I  can;  but  I  fear  I  cannot 
do  anything  for  her  that  will  bear  comparison  with  your 
munificence." 

"  Surely  I  can  give  her  enough.  I  should  prefer  to 
be  solely  responsible  for  her  welfare." 

"  Oh  no.  That  would  be  too  bad.  Oh  no,  Sholto: 
I  will  give  her  something,  please  God." 

"As  you  wish,  Mr.  Lind.  We  can  arrange  it  to  your 
satisfaction  afterward.  Do  you  intend  returning  to  West- 
bourne  Terrace  soon  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not.  I  have  to  go  into  the  City.  If  you 
would  care  to  come  with  me,  I  can  shew  you  the  Com- 
pany's place  there,  and  the  working  of  the  motor.  It  is 
well  worth  seeing.  Then  you  can  return  with  me  to  the 
Terrace  and  dine  with  us.  After  dinner  you  can  talk 
to  Marian." 

Douglas  consented;  and  they  went  to  Queen  Victoria 
Street,  to  a  building  which  had  on  each  doorpost  a  brass 
shield  inscribed  THE  CONOLLY  ELECTRO-MOTOR  COM- 
PANY OF  LONDON,  LIMITED.  At  the  offices,  on  the  first 
floor,  they  were  received  obsequiously  and  informed  that 
Mr.  Conolly  was  within.  They  then  went  to  a  door  on 
which  appeared  the  name  of  the  inventor,  and  entered  a 
handsomely  furnished  office  containing  several  working 
models  of  machinery,  and  a  writing-table,  from  his  seat 
at  which  Conolly  rose  to  salute  his  visitors. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Lind.  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Douglas?" 

"  Oh !  "  said  Mr.  Lind.  "  You  two  are  acquainted.  I 
did  not  know  that." 

167 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Yes,"  said  Conolly,  "  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
Mr.  Douglas  at  the  Academy  yesterday  evening." 

"  Indeed  ?  Marian  did  not  mention  that  you  were 
there.  Well,  can  we  see  the  wonders  of  the  place,  Mr. 
Conolly;  or  do  we  disturb  you?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Conolly,  turning  to  one  of  the 
models,  and  beginning  his  showman's  lecture  with  dis- 
quieting promptitude.  "  Hitherto,  as  you  are  no  doubt 
aware,  Mr.  Douglas,  steam  has  kept  electricity,  as  a  motive 
power,  out  of  the  field ;  because  it  is  much  less  expensive. 
Even  induced  magnetic  currents,  the  cheapest  known 
form  of  electric  energy,  can  be  obtained  only  by  the  use 
of  steam  power.  You  generate  steam  by  the  combustion 
of  coal :  electricity,  without  steam,  can  only  be  generated 
by  the  combustion  of  metals.  Coal  is  much  cheaper  than 
metal:  consider  the  vast  amount  of  coal  consumed  in 
smelting  metals.  Still,  electricity  is  a  much  greater  force 
than  steam:  it's  stronger,  so  to  speak.  Sixpennorth  of 
electricity  would  do  more  work  than  sixpennorth  of 
steam  if  only  you  could  catch  it  and  hold  it  without  waste. 
Up  to  the  present  the  waste  has  been  so  enormous  in 
electric  engines  as  compared  with  steam  engines  that 
steam  has  held  its  own  in  spite  of  its  inferior  strength. 
What  I  have  invented  is,  to  put  it  shortly,  an  electric 
engine  in  which  there  is  hardly  any  waste;  and  we  can 
now  pump  water,  turn  mill-stones,  draw  railway  trains, 
and  lift  elevators,  at  a  saving,  in  fuel  and  labor,  of  nearly 
seventy  per  cent,  of  the  cost  of  steam.  And,"  added 
Conolly,  glancing  at  Douglas,  "  as  a  motor  of  six-horse- 
power can  be  made  to  weigh  less  than  thirty  pounds, 
including  fuel,  flying  is  now  perfectly  feasible." 

"  What!"  said  Douglas,  incredulously.  "  Does  not  all 
trustworthy  evidence  prove  that  flying  is  a  dream  ?  " 

1 68 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  So  it  did ;  because  a  combination  of  great  power  with 
little  weight,  such  as  an  eagle,  for  instance,  possesses, 
could  not  formerly  be  realized  in  a  machine.  The  light- 
est known  four-horse-power  steam  engine  weighs  nearly 
fifty  pounds.  With  my  motor,  a  machine  weighing 
thirty  pounds  will  give  rather  more  than  six-horse-power, 
or,  in  other  words,  will  produce  a  wing  power  com- 
petent to  overcome  much  more  than  its  own  gravity.  If 
the  Aeronautical  Society  does  not,  within  the  next  few 
years,  make  a  machine  capable  of  carrying  passengers 
through  the  air  to  New  York  in  less  than  two  days, 
I  will  make  one  myself." 

"  Very  wonderful,  indeed,"  said  Douglas,  politely,  look- 
ing askance  at  him. 

"  No  more  wonderful  than  the  flight  of  a  sparrow,  I 
assure  you.  We  shall  presently  be  conveyed  to  the  top 
of  this  building  by  my  motor.  Here  you  have  a  model 
locomotive,  a  model  steam  hammer,  and  a  sewing  machine: 
all  of  which,  as  you  see,  I  can  set  to  work.  However, 
this  is  mere  show.  You  must  always  bear  in  mind  that 
the  novelty  is  not  in  the  working  of  these  machines,  but 
the  smallness  of  the  cost  of  working." 

Douglas  endured  the  rest  of  the  exhibition  in  silence, 
understanding  none  of  the  contrivances  until  they  were 
explained,  and  not  always  understanding  them  even  then. 
It  was  disagreeable  to  be  instructed  by  Conolly — to  feel 
that  there  were  matters  of  which  Conolly  knew  everything 
and  he  nothing.  If  he  could  have  but  shaped  a  pertinent 
question  or  two,  enough  to  prove  that  he  was  quite  capa- 
ble of  the  subject  if  he  chose  to  turn  his  attention  to  it, 
he  could  have  accepted  Conolly's  information  on  the  ma- 
chinery as  indifferently  as  that  of  a  policeman  on  the 
shortest  way  to  some  place  that  it  was  no  part  of  a 

169 


The   Irrational   Knot 

gentleman's  routine  to  frequent.  As  it  was,  he  took 
refuge  in  his  habitual  reserve,  and,  lest  the  exhibition 
should  be  prolonged  on  his  account,  took  care  to  shew  no 
more  interest  in  it  than  was  barely  necessary  to  satisfy 
Mr.  Lind.  At  last  it  was  over;  and  they  returned  west- 
ward together  in  a  hansom. 

"  He  is  a  Yankee,  I  suppose/"  said  Douglas,  as  if 
ingenuity  were  a  low  habit  that  must  be  tolerated  in  an 
American. 

"  Yes.  They  are  a  wonderful  people  for  that  sort  of 
thing.  Curious  turn  of  mind  the  mechanical  instinct  is !  " 

"  It  is  one  with  which  I  have  no  sympathy.  It  is  gen- 
erally subject  to  the  delusion  that  it  has  a  monopoly  of 
utility.  Your  mechanic  hates  art;  pelts  it  with  lumps 
of  iron;  and  strives  to  extinguish  it  beneath  all  the  hard 
and  ugly  facts  of  existence.  On  the  other  hand,  your 
artist  instinctively  hates  machinery.  I  fear  I  am  an 
artist." 

"  I  dont  think  you  are  quite  right  there,  Sholto.  No. 
Look  at  the  steam  engine,  the  electric  telegraph,  the — the 
other  inventions  of  the  century.  How  could  we  get  on 
without  them  ?  " 

"  Quite  as  well  as  Athens  got  on  without  them.  Our 
mechanical  contrivances  seem  to  serve  us;  but  they  are 
really  mastering  us,  crowding  and  crushing  the  beauty 
out  of  our  lives,  and  making  commerce  the  only  god." 

"  I  certainly  admit  that  the  coarser  forms  of  Radical- 
ism have  made  alarming  strides  under  the  influence  of 
our  modern  civilization.  But  the  convenience  of  steam 
conveyance  is  so  remarkable  that  I  doubt  if  we  could 
now  dispense  with  it.  Nor,  as  a  consistent  Liberal,  a 
moderate  Liberal,  do  I  care  to  advocate  any  retrogression, 
even  in  the  direction  of  ancient  Greece." 

170 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Douglas  was  seized  with  a  certain  impatience  of  Mr. 
Lind,  as  of  a  well-mannered  man  who  had  never  learned 
anything,  and  had  forgotten  all  that  he  had  been  taught. 
He  did  not  attempt  to  argue,  but  merely  said,  coldly: 
"  I  can  only  say  that  I  wish  Fate  had  made  me  an 
Athenian  instead  of  an  Englishman  of  the  nineteenth 
century." 

Mr.  Lind  smiled  complacently:  he  knew  Douglas,  if 
not  Athens,  better,  but  was  in  too  tolerant  a  humor  to 
say  so.  Little  more  passed  between  the  two  until  they 
reached  Westbourne  Terrace,  where  Marian  and  her 
cousin  were  dressing  for  dinner.  When  Marian  came 
down,  her  beauty  so  affected  Douglas  that  his  voice  was 
low  and  his  manner  troubled  as  he  greeted  her.  He  took 
her  in  to  dinner,  and  sat  in  silence  beside  her,  heedless 
alike  of  his  host's  commonplaces  and  Miss  McQuinch's 
acridities. 

Mr.  Lind  unceremoniously  took  a  nap  after  his  wine 
that  evening,  and  allowed  his  guest  to  go  upstairs  alone. 
Douglas  hoped  that  Elinor  would  be  equally  considerate, 
but,  to  his  disappointment,  he  found  her  by  herself  in 
the  drawing-room.  She  hastened  to  explain. 

"  Marian  is  looking  for  some  music.  She  will  be  back 
directly." 

He  sat  down  and  took  an  album  from  the  table,  saying : 
"  Have  you  many  new  faces  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  we  never  discard  old  faces  for  new  ones. 
It  is  the  old  ones  that  are  really  interesting." 

"  I  have  not  seen  this  one  of  Mr.  Lind  before.  It  is 
capital.  Ah!  this  of  you  is  an  old  friend." 

"  Yes.  What  do  you  think  of  the  one  of  Constance 
on  the  opposite  page  ?  " 

171 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  She  looks  as  if  she  were  trying  to  be  as  lugubrious 
as  possible.  What  dress  is  that  ?  Is  it  a  uniform  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She  joined  a  nursing  guild.  Didnt  Mrs.  Doug- 
las tell  you?" 

"  I  believe  so.  I  forgot.  She  went  into  a  cottage 
hospital  or  something  of  that  kind,  did  she  not?" 

"  She  left  it  because  one  of  the  doctors  offended  her. 
He  was  rather  dreadful.  He  said  that  in  two  months 
she  had  contributed  more  to  the  mortality  among  the 
patients  than  he  had  in  two  years,  and  told  her  flatly  that 
she  had  been  trained  for  the  drawing-room  and  ought  to 
stay  there.  She  was  glad  enough  to  have  an  excuse  for 
leaving;  for  she  was  heartily  sick  of  making  a  fool  of 
herself." 

"  Indeed !     Where  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  Back  at  Towers  Cottage,  moping,  I  suppose.  That's 
Mr.  Conolly  the  inventor,  there  under  Jasper." 

"  So  I  perceive.  Clever  head,  rather !  A  plain,  hard 
nature,  with  no  depths  in  it.  Is  that  his  wife,  with  the 
Swiss  bonnet  ?  " 

"  His  wife !  Why,  that  is  a  Swiss  girl,  the  daughter 
of  a  guide  at  Chamounix,  who  nursed  Marian  when  she 
sprained  her  ankle.  Mr.  Conolly  is  not  married." 

"  I  thought  men  of  his  stamp  always  married  early." 

"  No.  He  is  engaged,  and  engaged  to  a  lady  of  very 
good  position." 

"  He  owes  that  to  the  diseased  craving  of  modern 
women  for  notoriety  of  any  sort.  What  an  admirable 
photograph  of  Marian!  I  never  saw  it  before.  It  is 
really  most  charming.  When  was  it  taken  ?  " 

"  Last  August,  at  Geneva.  She  does  not  like  it — 
thinks  it  too  coquettish." 

"  Then  perhaps  she  will  give  it  to  me." 

172 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  She  will  be  only  too  glad,  I  daresay.  You  have 
caught  her  at  a  soft  moment  to-night." 

"  I  cannot  find  that  duet  anywhere,"  said  Marian, 
entering.  "What!  up  already,  Sholto?  Where  is 
papa  ?  " 

"  I  left  him  asleep  in  the  dining-room.  I  have  just 
been  asking  Miss  McQuinch  whether  she  thought  you 
would  give  me  a  copy  of  this  carte." 

"  That  Geneva  one.  It  is  most  annoying  how  people 
persist  in  admiring  it.  It  always  looks  to  me  as  if  it 
belonged  to  an  assortment  of  popular  beauties  at  one 
shilling  each.  I  dont  think  I  have  another.  But  you 
may  take  that  if  you  wish." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Douglas,  drawing  it  from  the  book. 

"  I  think  you  have  a  copy  of  every  photograph  I  have 
had  taken  in  my  life,"  she  said,  sitting  down  near  him, 
and  taking  the  album.  "  I  have  several  of  yours,  too. 
You  must  get  one  taken  soon  for  me ;  I  have  not  got  you 
with  your  beard  yet.  I  have  a  little  album  upstairs  which 
Aunt  Dora  gave  me  on  my  eighth  birthday;  and  the  first 
picture  in  it  is  you,  dressed  in  flannels,  holding  a  bat, 
and  looking  very  stern  as  captain  of  your  eleven  at  Eton. 
I  used  to  stand  in  great  awe  of  you  then.  Do  you  re- 
member telling  me  once  that  '  Zanoni '  was  a  splendid 
book,  and  that  I  ought  to  read  it  ?  " 

"  Pshaw !  No.  I  must  have  been  a  young  fool.  But 
it  seems  that  I  had  the  grace  even  then  to  desire  your 
sympathy." 

"  I  assure  you  I  read  it  most  reverently  down  in  Wilt- 
shire, where  Nelly  kept  a  select  library  of  fiction  con- 
cealed underneath  her  mattress;  and  I  believed  every 
word  of  it.  Nelly  and  I  agreed  that  you  were  exactly 

173 


The   Irrational   Knot 

like  Zanoni;  but  she  was  hardly  to  blame;  for  she  had 
never  seen  you." 

"  Things  like  that  make  deep  impressions  on  children," 
said  Elinor,  thoughtfully.  "  You  were  a  Zanoni  in  my 
imagination  for  years  before  I  saw  you.  When  we  first 
met  you  treated  me  insufferably.  If  you  had  known  how 
my  childish  fancy  had  predisposed  me  to  worship  you, 
you  might  have  vouchsafed  me  some  more  consideration, 
and  I  might  have  gone  on  believing  you  a  demigod  to 
the  end  of  the  chapter.  I  have  hardly  forgiven  you  yet 
for  disenchanting  me." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Douglas  sarcastically.  "  I  must 
have  been  sadly  lacking  in  impressiveness.  But  on  the 
other  hand  I  recollect  that  you  did  not  disappoint  me  in 
the  least.  You  fully  bore  out  the  expectations  I  had 
been  led  to  form  of  you." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  I  did,"  said  Elinor.  "  Yet  I  protest 
that  my  reputation  was  as  unjust  as  yours.  However, 
I  have  outlived  my  sensitiveness  to  this  injustice,  and 
have  even  contracted  a  bad  habit  of  pretending  to  act  up 
to  it  occasionally  before  foolish  people.  Marian :  are  you 
sure  that  duet  is  not  on  the  sofa  in  my  room  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  sofa !    I  looked  only  in  the  green  case." 

"  I  will  go  and  hunt  it  out  myself.  Excuse  me  for  a 
few  minutes." 

Douglas  was  glad  to  see  her  go.  Yet  he  was  con- 
fused when  he  was  alone  with  Marian.  He  strolled  to 
the  window,  outside  which  the  roof  of  the  porch  had 
been  converted  into  a  summer  retreat  by  a  tent  of  pink- 
striped  canvass.  "  The  tent  is  up  already,"  he  said. 
"  I  noticed  it  as  we  came  in." 

"  Yes.    Would  you  prefer  to  sit  there  ?    We  can  carry 

174 


The   Irrational   Knot 

out  this  little  table,  and  put  the  lamp  on  it.  There  is 
just  room  for  three  chairs." 

"  We  need  not  crowd  ourselves  with  the  table,"  he 
said.  "  There  will  be  light  enough.  We  only  want  to 
talk." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Marian,  rising.  "  Will  you  give 
me  that  woolen  thing  that  is  on  the  sofa?  It  will  do  me 
for  a  shawl."  He  placed  it  on  her  shoulders,  and  they 
went  out. 

"  I  will  sit  in  this  corner,"  said  Marian.  "  You  are 
too  big  for  the  campstool.  You  had  better  bring  a  chair. 
I  am  fond  of  sitting  here.  When  the  crimson  shade  is 
on  the  lamp,  and  papa  asleep  in  its  roseate  glow,  the  view 
is  quite  romantic:  there  is  something  ecstatically  snug 
in  hiding  here  and  watching  it."  Douglas  smiled,  and 
seated  himself  as  she  suggested,  near  her,  with  his 
shoulder  against  the  stone  balustrade. 

"  Marian,"  said  he,  after  a  pause: "  you  remember  what 
passed  between  us  at  the  Academy  yesterday  ?  " 

"  You  mean  our  solemn  league  and  covenant.     Yes." 

"Why  did  we  not  make  that  covenant  before?  Life 
is  not  so  long,  nor  happiness  so  common,  that  we  can 
afford  to  trifle  away  two  years  of  it.  I  wish  you  had 
told  me  when  I  last  came  here  of  that  old  photograph 
of  mine  in  your  album." 

"  But  this  is  not  a  new  covenant.  It  is  only  an  old 
one  mended.  We  were  always  good  friends  until  you 
quarrelled  and  ran  away." 

"  That  was  not  my  fault,  Marian." 

"  Then  it  must  have  been  mine.  However,  it  does 
not  matter  now." 

"  You  are  right.  Prometheus  is  unbound  now;  and 
his  despair  is  only  a  memory  sanctifying  his  present  hap- 

175 


The  Irrational  Knot 

piness.  You  know  why  I  called  on  your  father  this 
morning  ?  " 

"  It  was  to  see  the  electro-motor  in  the  city,  was  it 
not?" 

"  Good  Heavens,  Marian!"  he  said,  rising,  "  what  spirit 
of  woman  or  spirit  of  mischief  tempts  you  to  coquet  with 
me  even  now  ?  " 

"  I  really  thought  that  was  the  reason — besides,  of 
course,  your  desire  to  make  papa  amends  for  not  having 
been  to  see  him  sooner  after  your  return." 

"  Marian !  "  he  said,  still  remonstrantly. 

She  looked  at  him  with  sudden  dread,  and  instinc- 
tively recognized  the  expression  in  his  face. 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  went 
to  seek  his  consent  to  our  solemn  league  and  covenant, 
as  you  call  it.  If  that  covenant  were  written  on  your 
heart  as  it  is  on  mine,  you  would  not  inflict  on  me  this 
pretty  petty  torture.  Your  father  has  consented :  he  is 
delighted.  Now  may  I  make  a  guess  at  that  happy  secret 
you  told  me  of  yesterday,  and  promised  I  should  know 
one  day  ?  " 

"  Stop !  Wait,"  said  Marian,  very  pale.  "  I  must  tell 
you  that  secret  myself." 

"  Hush.  Do  not  be  so  moved.  Remember  that  your 
confession  is  to  be  whispered  to  me  alone." 

"  Dont  talk  like  that.  It  is  all  a  mistake.  My  secret 
has  nothing  to  do  with  you."  Douglas  drew  back  a  little 
way. 

"  I  am  engaged  to  be  married." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  said  sternly,  advancing  a 
step  and  looking  down  menacingly  at  her  with  his  hand 
on  the  back  of  his  chair. 

"  I   have   said   what   I   mean,"    replied   Marian   with 

176 


The   Irrational   Knot 

dignity.  But  she  rose  quickly  as  soon  as  she  had  spoken, 
and  got  past  him  into  the  drawing-room.  He  followed 
her;  and  she  turned  and  faced  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  paler  than  before. 

"  You  are  engaged  to  me,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  not,"  she  replied. 

"  That  is  a  lie !  "  he  exclaimed,  struggling  in  his  rage 
to  break  through  the  strong  habit  of  self-control.  "  It 
is  a  damnable  lie;  but  it  is  the  most  cruel  way  of  getting 
rid  of  me,  and  therefore  the  one  most  congenial  to  your 
heartlessness." 

"  Sholto,"  said  Marian,  her  cheeks  beginning  to  redden: 
"  you  should  not  speak  to  me  like  that" 

"  I  say,"  he  cried  fiercely,  "  that  it  is  a  lie !  " 

"  Whats  the  matter  ?  "  said  Elinor,  coming  hastily  into 
the  room. 

"  Sholto  has  lost  his  temper,"  said  Marian,  firmly,  her 
indignation  getting  the  better  of  her  fear  now  that  she 
was  no  longer  alone  with  him. 

"  It  is  a  lie,"  repeated  Douglas,  unable  to  shape  a 
new  sentence.  Elinor  and  Marian  looked  at  one  another 
in  perplexity.  Then  Mr.  Lind  entered. 

"  Gently,  pray,"  said  he.  "  You  can  be  heard  all 
through  the  house.  Marian:  what  is  the  matter?" 

She  did  not  answer;  but  Douglas  succeeded,  after  a 
few  efforts,  in  speaking  intelligibly.  "  Your  daughter," 
he  said,  "  with  the  assistance  of  her  friend  Mrs.  Leith 
Fairfax,  and  a  sufficient  degree  of  direct  assurance  on 
her  own  part,  has  achieved  the  triumph  of  bringing  me 
to  her  feet  a  second  time,  after  I  had  unfortunately 
wounded  her  vanity  by  breaking  her  chains  for  two 
years." 

177 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  That  is  utterly  false,"  interrupted  Marian,  with  ex- 
citement. 

"  I  say,"  said  Douglas,  in  a  deeper  tone  and  with  a 
more  determined  manner,  "  that  she  set  Mrs.  Leith  Fair- 
fax on  me  with  a  tale  of  love  and  regret  for  my  absence. 
She  herself  with  her  own  lips  deliberately  invited  me  to 
seek  your  consent  to  our  union.  She  caused  you  to  write 
me  the  invitation  I  received  from  you  this  morning.  She 
told  me  that  my  return  realized  a  dream  that  had  been 
haunting  her  for  two  years.  She  begged  me  to  forgive 
her  the  past,  and  to  write  her  a  sonnet,  of  which  she 
said  she  was  at  least  more  worthy  than  Clytemnestra, 
and  of  which  I  say  she  is  at  best  less  worthy  than  Cres- 
sida."  He  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket  as  he  spoke* 
and,  with  a  theatrical  gesture,  tore  it  into  fragments. 

"  This  is  very  extraordinary,"  said  Mr.  Lind  irreso- 
lutely. "  Is  it  some  foolish  quarrel,  or  what  is  the  mat- 
ter? Pray  let  us  have  no  more  unpleasantness." 

"  You  need  fear  none  from  me,"  said  Douglas.  "  I 
do  not  propose  to  continue  my  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Lind." 

"  Mr.  Douglas  has  proposed  to  marry  me;  and  I  have 
refused  him,"  said  Marian.  "  He  has  lost  his  temper  and 
insulted  me.  I  think  you  ought  to  tell  him  to  go  away." 

"  Gently,  Marian,  gently.  What  am  I  to  believe  about 
this?" 

"  What  I  have  told  you,"  said  Douglas,  "  I  confirm 
on  my  honor,  which  you  can  weigh  against  the  pretences 
of  a  twice  perjured  woman." 

"Sholto!" 

'*  I  have  to  speak  plainly  on  my  own  behalf,  Mr.  Lind. 
I  regret  that  you  were  not  in  a  position  this  morning  to 
warn  me  of  your  daughter's  notable  secret." 

178 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  If  it  is  a  secret,  and  you  are  a  gentleman,  you  will 
hold  your  tongue/'  interposed  Elinor,  sharply. 

"  Papa,"  said  Marian:  "  I  became  engaged  yesterday  to 
Mr.  Conolly.  I  told  Mr.  Douglas  this  in  order  to  save 
him  from  making  me  a  proposal.  That  is  the  reason  he 
has  forgotten  himself.  I  had  not  intended  to  tell  you 
so  suddenly;  but  this  misunderstanding  has  forced  me  to." 

"Engaged  to  Mr.  Conolly!"  cried  Mr.  Lind.  "I 

begin  to  fear  that Enga "  He  took  breath,  and 

continued,  to  Marian :  "  I  forbid  you  to  entertain  any 
such  engagement.  Sholto:  there  is  evidently  nothing  to 
be  gained  by  discussing  this  matter  in  hot  blood.  It  is 
some  girlish  absurdity — some — some — some — " 

"  I  apologize  for  having  doubted  the  truth  of  the  ex- 
cuse," said  Douglas;  "but  I  see  that  I  have  failed  to 
gauge  Miss  Lind's  peculiar  taste.  I  beg  you  to  under- 
stand, Mr.  Lind,  that  my  pretensions  are  at  an  end.  I 
do  not  aspire  to  the  position  of  Mr.  Conolly's  rival." 

"  You  are  already  in  the  position  of  Mr.  Conolly's 
unsuccessful  rival;  and  you  fill  it  with  a  very  bad  grace," 
said  Elinor. 

"  Pray  be  silent,  Elinor,"  said  Mr.  Lind.  "  This  mat- 
ter does  not  concern  you.  Marian :  go  to  your  room  for 
the  present.  I  shall  speak  to  you  afterwards." 

Marian  flushed,  and  repressed  a  sob.  "  I  wish  I  were 
under  his  protection  now,"  she  said,  looking  reproach- 
fully at  Douglas  as  she  crossed  the  room. 

"  What  can  you  expect  from  a  father  but  hostility  ?  " 
said  Elinor,  bitterly.  "  You  are  a  coward,  like  all  your 
sex,"  she  added,  turning  to  Douglas.  Then  she  suddenly 
opened  the  door,  and  passed  out  through  it  with  Marian, 
whilst  the  housemaids  fled  upstairs,  the  footman  shrank 

179 


The   Irrational   Knot 

into  a  corner  of  the  landing,  and  the  page  hastily  drag- 
ged the  cook  down  to  the  kitchen. 

The  two  men,  left  together  in  the  drawing-room,  were 
for  some  moments  quite  at  a  loss.  Then  Mr.  Lind,  after 
a  preliminary  cough  or  two,  said :  "  Sholto:  I  cannot 
describe  to  you  how  shocked  I  am  by  what  I  have  just 
heard.  I  am  deeply  disappointed  in  Marian.  I  trusted 
her  implicitly ;  but  of  course  I  now  see  that  I  have  been 
wrong  in  allowing  her  so  much  liberty.  Evidently  a 
great  deal  has  been  going  on  of  which  I  had  not  any 
suspicion." 

Douglas  said  nothing.  His  resentment  was  unabated; 
but  his  rage,  naturally  peevish  and  thin  in  quality,  was 
subsiding,  though  it  surged  back  on  him  at  intervals. 
But  now  that  he  no  longer  desired  to  speak  passionately, 
he  would  not  trust  himself  to  speak  at  all.  Suddenly 
Mr.  Lind  broke  out  with  a  fury  that  astonished  him,  pre- 
occupied as  he  was. 

"  This — this  fellow  must  have  had  opportunities  of 
thrusting  himself  into  her  society  of  which  I  knew  noth- 
ing. I  thought  she  barely  knew  him.  And  if  I  had  known, 
could  I  have  suspected  her  of  intriguing  with  an  ill-bred 
adventurer !  Yes,  I  might :  my  experience  ought  to  have 
warned  me  that  the  taint  was  in  her  blood.  Her  mother 
did  the  same  thing — left  the  position  I  had  given  her  to 
run  away  with  a  charlatan,  disgracing  me  without  the 
shadow  of  an  excuse  or  reason  except  her  own  innate 
love  for  what  was  low.  I  thought  Marian  had  escaped 
that.  I  was  proud  of  her — placed  un — unbounded  con- 
fidence in  her." 

"  She  has  struck  me  a  blow,"  said  Douglas,  "  the  in- 
fernal treachery ."  He  checked  himself,  and  after  a 

moment  resumed  in  his  ordinary  formal  manner.  "  I 

180 


The   Irrational   Knot 

must  leave  you,  Mr.  Lind.  I  am  quite  unable  at  present 
to  discuss  what  has  passed.  Any  conventional  expres- 
sions of  regret  would  be Good-night." 

He  bowed  and  left  the  room.  Mr.  Lind,  taken  aback, 
did  not  attempt  to  detain  him  or  even  return  his  bow,  but 
stood  biting  his  lips  with  a  frown  of  discomfiture  and 
menace.  When  he  was  alone,  he  paced  the  room  several 
times.  Then  he  procured  some  writing  materials  and 
sat  down  before  them.  He  wrote  nothing,  but,  after 
sitting  for  some  time,  he  went  upstairs.  Passing  Ma- 
rian's room  he  listened.  The  sharp  voice  and  restless 
movements  of  his  niece  were  the  only  sounds  he  heard. 
They  seemed  to  frighten  him;  for  he  stole  on  quickly  to 
his  own  room,  and  went  to  bed.  Even  there  he  could 
hear  a  shrill  note  of  conversation  occasionally  from  the 
opposite  room,  where  Marian  was  sitting  on  a  sofa,  try- 
nig  to  subdue  the  hysteria  which  had  been  gaining  on 
her  since  her  escape  from  the  balcony;  whilst  Elinor, 
seated  on  the  corner  of  a  drawer  which  projected  from 
the  dressing-table,  talked  incessantly  in  her  most  acrid 
tones. 

"  Henceforth,"  she  said,  "  Uncle  Reginald  is  welcome 
to  my  heartiest  detestation.  I  have  been  waiting  ever 
since  I  knew  him  for  an  excuse  to  hate  him;  and  now  he 
has  given  me  one.  He  has  taken  part — like  a  true  parent 
— against  you  with  a  self-intoxicated  fool  whom  he  ought 
to  have  put  out  of  the  house.  He  has  told  me  to  mind 
my  own  business.  I  shall  be  even  with  him  for  that 
some  day.  I  am  as  vindictive  as  an  elephant:  I  hate 
people  who  are  not  vindictive:  they  are  never  grateful 
either,  only  incapable  of  any  enduring  sentiment.  And 
Douglas!  Sholto  Douglas!  The  hero,  the  Newdigate 
poet,  the  handsome  man!  What  a  noble  fellow  he  is 

181 


The   Irrational   Knot 

when  a  little  disappointment  rubs  his  varnish  off !  I  am 
glad  I  called  him  a  coward  to  his  face.  I  am  thoroughly 
well  satisfied  with  myself  altogether :  at  last  I  have  come 
out  of  a  scene  without  having  forgotten  the  right  thing 
to  say.  You  never  see  people  in  all  their  selfishness  un- 
til they  pretend  to  love  you.  See  what  you  owe  to  your 
loving  suitor,  Sholto  Douglas!  See  what  you  owe  to 
your  loving  father,  Reginald  Lind !  " 

"  I  do  not  think  that  my  father  should  have  told  me 
to  leave  the  room,"  said  Marian.  "  It  was  Sholto's  place 
to  have  gone,  not  mine." 

"  Mr.  Lind,  who  has  so  suddenly  and  deservedly  de- 
scended from  '  papa '  to  '  my  father,'  judiciously  sided 
with  the  stronger  and  richer  party." 

"  Nelly:  I  shall  be  as  unhappy  after  this  as  even  Sholto 
can  desire.  I  feel  very  angry  with  papa;  and  yet  I  have 
no  right  to  be.  I  suppose  it  is  because  I  am  in  the  wrong. 
I  deceived  him  about  the  engagement." 

"  Bosh !  You  didnt  tell  him  because  you  knew  you 
couldnt  trust  him;  and  now  you  see  how  right  you  were." 

"Even  so,  Nelly,  I  must  not  forget  all  his  past  care 
of  me." 

"  What  care  has  he  ever  taken  of  you  ?  He  was  very 
little  better  acquainted  with  you  than  he  was  with  me, 
when  you  came  to  keep  house  for  him  and  make  yourself 
useful.  Of  course,  he  had  to  pay  for  your  board  and 
lodging  and  education.  The  police  would  not  have  al- 
lowed him  to  leave  you  to  the  parish.  Besides,  he  was 
proud  of  having  a  nice,  pretty  daughter  to  dispose  of. 
You  were  quite  welcome  to  be  happy  so  long  as  you  did 
not  do  anything  except  what  he  approved  of.  But  the 
moment  you  claim  your  independence  as  a  grown  woman ! 
the  moment  you  attempt  to  dispose  of  yourself  instead 

182 


The   Irrational   Knot 

of  letting  him  dispose  of  you !  Bah !  /  might  have  been 
my  father's  pet,  if  I  had  been  a  nonentity.  As  it  was, 
he  spared  no  pains  to  make  me  miserable;  and  as  I  was 
only  a  helpless  little  devil  of  a  girl,  he  succeeded  to  his 
heart's  content.  Uncle  Reginald  will  try  to  do  exactly 
the  same  to-morrow.  He  will  come  and  bully  you,  in- 
stead of  apologizing  as  he  ought.  See  if  he  doesnt !  " 

"  If  I  had  as  much  reason  to  complain  of  my  childhood 
as  you  have,  perhaps  I  should  not  feel  so  shocked  and 
disappointed  by  his  turning  on  me  to-night.  Surely, 
when  he  saw  me  attacked  as  I  was,  he  ought  to  have 
come  to  my  assistance." 

"Any  stranger  would  have  taken  your  part.  The  foot- 
man would,  if  you  had  asked  him.  But  then,  James  is 
not  your  father." 

"  It  seems  a  very  small  thing  to  be  bidden  to  leave 
the  room.  But  I  will  never  expose  myself  to  a  repetition 
of  it." 

"  Quite  right.  But  what  do  you  mean  to  do  ?  for, 
after  all,  though  parental  love  is  an  imposition,  parental 
authority  is  a  fact." 

"  I  will  get  married." 

"  Out  of  the  frying  pan  into  the  fire !  Certainly,  if  you 
are  resolved  to  marry,  the  present  is  as  good  as  another 
time,  and  more  convenient.  But  there  must  be  some 
legal  formalities  to  go  through.  You  cannot  turn  into 
the  first  church  you  meet,  and  be  married  off-hand." 

"  Ned  must  find  out  all  that.  I  am  sadly  disappointed 
and  disilluded,  Nelly." 

"  Time  will  cure  you  as  it  does  everybody;  and  you 
will  be  the  better  for  being  wiser.  By  the  bye,  what  did 
Sholto  mean  about  Mrs.  Fairfax  ?  " 

"  I  dont  know." 

183 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  She  has  evidently  been  telling  him  a  parcel  of  lies. 
Do  you  remember  her  hints  about  him  yesterday  at  lunch  ? 
I  have  not  the  least  doubt  that  she  has  told  him  you 
are  frantically  in  love  with  him.  She  as  good  as  told 
you  the  same  about  him." 

"  Oh !  she  is  not  capable  of  doing  such  a  thing." 

"Isntshe?    We  shall  see." 

"  I  dont  know  what  to  think,"  said  Marian,  despond- 
ently. "  I  used  to  believe  that  both  you  and  Ned  thought 
too  little  of  other  people;  but  it  seems  now  that  the  world 
is  nothing  but  a  morass  of  wickedness  and  falsehood. 
And  Sholto,  too!  Who  would  have  believed  that  he 
could  break  out  in  that  coarse  way?  Do  you  remember 
the  day  that  Fleming,  the  coachman,  lost  his  temper 
with  Auntie  down  at  the  Cottage.  Sholto  was  exactly 
like  that;  not  a  bit  more  refined  or  dignified." 

"  Rather  less  so,  because  Fleming  was  in  the  right. 
Let  us  go  to  bed.  We  can  do  nothing  to-night,  but  fret, 
and  wish  for  to-morrow.  Better  get  to  sleep.  Resent- 
ment does  not  keep  me  awake,  I  can  vouch  for  that: 
I  got  well  broken  in  to  it  when  I  was  a  child.  I  heard 
Uncle  Reginald  going  to  his  room  some  time  ago.  I 
am  getting  sleepy,  too,  though  I  feel  the  better  for  the 
excitement." 

"  Very  well.  To  bed  be  it,"  said  Marian.  But  she  did 
not  sleep  at  all  as  well  as  Nelly. 


184 


CHAPTER   X 

NEXT  morning  Mr.  Lind  rose  before  his  daughter 
was  astir,  and  went  to  his  club,  where  he  break- 
fasted. He  then  went  to  the  offices  in  Queen 
Victoria  Street.  Finding  the  board-room  unoccupied, 
he  sat  down  there,  and  said  to  one  of  the  clerks: 

"  Go  and  tell  Mr.  Conolly  that  I  desire  to  speak  to 
him,  if  he  is  disengaged.  And  if  anyone  wants  to  come 
in,  say  that  I  am  busy  here.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  dis- 
turbed for  half  an  hour  or  so." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  clerk,  departing.  A  minute  later, 
he  returned,  and  said :  "  Mr.  Conly  is  disengaged ;  and 
he  says  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  come  to  his  room,  sir." 

"  I  told  you  to  ask  him  to  come  here,"  said  Mr.  Lind. 

"  Well,  thats  what  he  said,  sir,"  said  the  clerk,  speak- 
ing in  official  Board  School  English.  "  Shloy  gow  to 
him  and  tell  him  again  ?  " 

"  No,  no :  it  does  not  matter,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  and 
walked  out  through  the  office.  The  clerk  held  the  door 
open  for  him,  and  carefully  closed  it  when  he  had  passed 
through. 

"  Ow,  oy  sy  !  "  cried  the  clerk.    "  This  is  fawn,  this  is." 

"  Wots  the  row  ?  "  said  another  clerk. 

"  Woy,  owld  Lind  sends  me  in  to  Conly  to  cam  in  to 
him  into  the  board-room.  'Aw  right/  says  Conly,  '  awsk 
him  to  cam  in  eah  to  me.'  You  should  'a  seen  the  owld 
josser's  feaches  wnoy  towld  im.  '  Oyd  zoyred  jou  to 
sy  e  was  to  cam  in  eah  to  me.'  '  Shloy  gow  and  tell  him 

185 


The  Irrational  Knot 

again  ? '  I  says,  as  cool  as  ennything.  '  Now/  says  he, 
'  Oil  gow  myself.'  Thets  wot  Aw  loike  in  Conly.  He 
tikes  tham  fellers  dahn  wen  they  troy  it  on  owver  im." 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Lind  went  to  Conolly's  room;  returned 
his  greeting  by  a  dignified  inclination  of  the  head;  and 
accepted,  with  a  cold  "  Thank  you,"  the  chair  offered 
him.  Conolly,  who  had  received  him  cordially,  checked 
himself.  There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Mr.  Lind 
lost  countenance  a  little.  Then  Conolly  sat  down,  and 
waited. 

"Ahem !  "  said  Mr.  Lind.  "  I  have  to  speak  to  you 
with — with  reference  to — to  a — a  matter  which  has 
accidentally  come  to  my  knowledge.  It  would  be  painful 
and  unnecessary — quite  unnecessary,  to  go  into  particu- 
lars." 

Conolly  remained  politely  attentive,  but  said  nothing. 
Mr.  Lind  began  to  feel  very  angry,  but  this  helped  him 
to  the  point. 

"  I  merely  wish — that  is,  I  quite  wish  you  to  under- 
stand that  any  intimacy  that  may  have  arisen  between 
you  and — and  a  member  of  my  family  must — must,  in 
short,  be  considered  to  be  at  an  end.  My  daughter  is — 
I  may  tell  you — engaged  to  Mr.  Sholto  Douglas,  whom 
you  know;  and  therefore — you  understand." 

"  Mr.  Lind,"  said  Conolly,  decisively:  "  your  daughter 
is  engaged  to  me." 

Mr.  Lind  lost  his  temper,  and  rose,  exclaiming,  "I  beg 
you  will  not  repeat  that,  either  here  or  elsewhere .  " 

"  Pray  be  seated,"  said  Conolly  courteously. 

"  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  sir." 

Conolly  rose,  as  though  the  interview  were  at  an  end, 
and  seemed  to  wait  for  his  visitor  to  go. 

"  We  understand  one  another,  I  presume,"  said  Mr. 
Lind,  dubiously. 

186 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Not  quite,  I  think,"  said  Conolly,  relenting.  "  I 
should  suggest  our  discussing  the  matter  in  full,  now 
that  we  have  a  favorable  opportunity — if  you  will  be  so 
good." 

Mr.  Lind  sat  down,  and  said  with  condescension,  "  I 
am  quite  willing  to  listen  to  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Conolly.  "  Will  you  tell  me  what 
your  objections  are  to  my  engagement  with  your  daugh- 
ter ?" 

"  I  had  hoped,  sir,  that  your  common  sense  and  know- 
ledge of  the  world  would  have  rendered  an  explanation 
superfluous." 

"  They  havnt,"  said  Conolly. 

Mr.  Lind  rose  to  boiling  point  again.  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Conolly,  I  assure  you  I  have  no  objection  to  explain 
myself :  none  whatever.  I  merely  wished  to  spare  you  as 
far  as  possible.  Since  you  insist  on  my  mentioning  what 
I  think  you  must  be  perfectly  well  aware  of,  I  can  only 
say  that  from  the  point  of  view  of  English  society  our 
positions  are  different ;  and  therefore  an  engagement  be- 
tween you  and  any  member  of  my  family  is  unsuitable, 
and — in  short — out  of  the  question,  however  advanta- 
geous it  might  be  to  you.  That  is  all." 

Mr.  Lind  considered  he  had  had  the  better  of  that, 
and  leaned  back  in  his  chair  more  confidently.  Conolly 
smiled  and  shook  his  head,  appreciative  of  the  clearness 
with  which  Mr.  Lind  had  put  his  case,  but  utterly  un- 
moved by  it.  He  considered  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  weighing  his  words  carefully: 

"  Your  daughter,  with  her  natural  refinement  and  deli- 
cate habits,  is  certainly  not  fit  to  be  married  to  a  foul- 
mouthed  fellow,  ignorant,  dirty,  besotted,  and  out  of 
place  in  any  company  except  at  the  bar  in  a  public 
house.  That  is  probably  your  idea  of  a  workman.  But 

187 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  fact  of  her  having  consented  to  marry  me  is  a  proof 
that  I  do  not  answer  to  any  such  description.  As  you 
have  hinted,  it  will  be  an  advantage  to  me  in  some  ways 
to  have  a  lady  for  my  wife;  but  I  should  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  purchasing  that  advantage,  even  with  my  present 
means,  which  I  expect  to  increase  largely  in  the  course 
of  some  years.  Do  you  not  underrate  your  daughter's 
personal  qualities  when  you  assume  that  it  was  her 
position  that  induced  me  to  seek  her  hand  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  aware  of  my  daughter's  personal  advan- 
tages. They  are  additional  reasons  against  her  con- 
tracting an  imprudent  marriage." 

"  Precisely.  But  in  what  respect  would  her  marriage 
with  me  be  imprudent?  I  possess  actual  competence, 
and  a  prospect  of  wealth.  I  come  of  a  long  lived  and 
healthy  family.  My  name  is,  beyond  comparison,  more 
widely  known  than  yours.  [Mr.  Lind  recoiled].  I  now 
find  myself  everywhere  treated  with  a  certain  degree  of 
consideration,  which  an  alliance  with  your  daughter  will 
not  diminish." 

"  In  fact,  you  are  conferring  a  great  honor  on  my 
family  by  condescending  to  marry  into  it  ?  " 

"  I  dont  understand  that  way  of  looking  at  things, 
Mr.  Lind;  and  so  I  leave  you  to  settle  the  question  of 
honor  as  you  please.  But  you  must  not  condemn  me 
for  putting  my  position  in  the  best  possible  light  in  order 
to  reconcile  you  to  an  inevitable  fact." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  an  inevitable  fact,  sir  ?  " 

"  My  marriage,  of  course.  I  assure  you  that  it  will 
take  place." 

"  But  I  shall  not  permit  it  to  take  place.  Do  you  think 
to  ignore  me  in  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Practically  so.  If  you  give  your  consent,  I  shall  be 
glad  for  the  sake  of  Marian,  who  will  be  gratified  by  it. 

188 


The  Irrational   Knot 

But  if  you  withhold  it,  we  must  dispense  with  it.  By 
opposing  us,  you  will  simply — by  making  Marian's  home 
unbearable  to  her — precipitate  the  wedding."  Conolly, 
under  the  influence  of  having  put  the  case  neatly,  here 
relaxed  his  manner  so  far  as  to  rest  his  elbows  on  the 
table  and  look  pleasantly  at  his  visitor. 

"Do  you  know  to  whom  you  are  speaking?"  said 
Mr.  Lind,  driven  by  rage  and  a  growing  fear  of  defeat 
into  desperate  self-assertion. 

"  I  am  speaking,"  said  Conolly  with  a  smile,  "  to  my 
future  father-in-law." 

"  I  am  a  director  of  this  company,  of  which  you  are 
the  servant,  as  you  shall  find  to  your  cost  if  you  persist 
in  holding  insulting  language  to  me." 

"  If  I  found  any  director  of  this  company  allowing 
other  than  strictly  business  considerations  to  influence 
him  at  the  Board,  I  should  insist  on  his  resigning." 

Mr.  Lind  looked  at  him  severely,  then  indignantly, 
then  unsteadily,  without  moving  him  in  the  least.  At 
last  he  said,  more  humbly :  "  I  hope  you  will  not  abuse 
your  position,  Mr.  Conolly.  I  do  not  know  whether  you 
have  sufficient  influence  over  Marian  to  induce  her  to 
defy  me;  but  however  that  may  be,  I  appeal  to  your 
better  feelings.  Put  yourself  in  my  place.  If  you  had 
an  only  daughter " 

"  Excuse  my  interrupting  you,"  said  Conolly,  gently; 
"  but  that  will  not  advance  the  argument  unless  you  put 
yourself  in  mine.  Besides,  I  am  pledged  to  Marian.  If 
she  asks  me  to  break  off  the  match,  I  shall  release  her 
instantly." 

"You  will  bind  yourself  to  do  that?" 

"  I  cannot  help  myself.  I  have  no  more  power  to 
make  her  marry  me  than  you  have  to  prevent  her." 

"  I  have  the  authority  of  a  parent.    And  I  must  tell 

189 


The  Irrational   Knot 

you,  Mr.  Conolly,  that  it  will  be  my  duty  to  enlighten 
my  poor  child  as  to  the  effect  a  union  with  you  must 
have  on  her  social  position.  You  have  made  the  most 
of  your  celebrity  and  your  prospects.  She  may  be  daz- 
zled for  the  moment;  but  her  good  sense  will  come  to 
the  rescue  yet,  I  am  convinced." 

"  I  have  certainly  spared  no  pains  to  persuade  her. 
Unless  the  habit  of  her  childhood  can  induce  Marian  to 
defer  to  your  prejudice — you  must  allow  me  to  call  it 
so :  it  is  really  nothing  more — she  will  keep  her  word 
to  me." 

Mr.  Lind  winced,  recollecting  how  little  his  conduct 
toward  Marian  during  her  childhood  was  calculated  to 
accustom  her  to  his  influence.  "  It  seems  to  me,  sir," 
he  said,  suddenly  thinking  of  a  new  form  of  reproach, 
"  that,  to  use  your  own  plain  language,  you  are  nothing 
more  or  less  than  a  Radical." 

"  Radicalism  is  not  considered  a  reproach  amongst 
workmen,"  said  Conolly. 

"  I  shall  not  fail  to  let  her  know  the  confidence  with 
which  you  boast  of  your  power  over  her." 

"  I  have  simply  tried  to  be  candid  with  you.  You 
know  exactly  how  I  stand.  If  I  have  omitted  anything, 
ask  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  at  once." 

Mr.  Lind  rose.  "  I  know  quite  as  much  as  I  care  to 
know,"  he  said.  "  I  distinctly  object  to  and  protest 
against  all  your  proceedings,  Mr.  Conolly.  If  my 
daughter  marries  you,  she  shall  have  neither  my  counte- 
nance in  society  nor  one  solitary  farthing  of  the  fortune 
I  had  destined  for  her.  I  recommend  the  latter  point 
to  your  attention." 

"  I  have  considered  it  carefully,  Mr.  Lind ;  and  I  am 
satisfied  with  what  she  possesses  in  her  own  right." 

"  Oh !    You  have  ascertained  that,  have  you  ?  " 

190 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  I  should  hardly  have  proposed  to  marry  her  but  for 
her  entire  pecuniary  independence  of  me." 

"  Indeed.  And  have  you  explained  to  her  that  you 
wish  to  marry  her  for  the  sake  of  securing  her  income  ?  " 

"  I  have  explained  to  her  everything  she  ought  to 
know,  taking  care,  of  course,  to  have  full  credit  for  my 
frankness." 

Mr.  Lind,  after  regarding  him  with  amazement  for  a 
moment,  walked  to  the  door. 

"  I  am  a  gentleman,"  he  said,  pausing  there  for  a 
moment,  "  and  too  old-fashioned  to  discuss  the  obliga- 
tions of  good  breeding  with  a  Radical.  If  I  had  believed 
you  capable  of  the  cynical  impudence  with  which  you 
have  just  met  my  remonstrances,  I  should  have  spared 
myself  this  meeting.  Good-morning." 

"  Good-morning,"  said  Conolly,  gravely.  When  the 
door  closed,  he  sprang  up  and  walked  to  and  fro,  chuck- 
ling, rubbing  his  hands,  and  occasionally  uttering  a  short 
laugh.  When  he  had  sufficiently  relieved  himself  by 
this  exercise,  he  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and  wrote  a  note. 

"  The    Conolly    Electro-Motor    Company    of    London, 
Limited.     Queen  Victoria  Street,  E.  C. 

"  This  is  to  let  your  ever-radiant  ladyship  know  that 
I  am  fresh  from  an  encounter  with  your  father,  who  has 
retired  in  great  wrath,  defeated,  but  of  opinion  that  he 
deserved  no  better  for  arguing  with  a  Radical.  I  thought 
it  better  to  put  forth  my  strength  at  once  so  as  to  save 
future  trouble.  I  send  this  post  haste  in  order  that  you 
may  be  warned  in  case  he  should  go  straight  home  and 
scold  you.  I  hope  he  will  not  annoy  you  much. — E.  C." 

Having  despatched  the  office  boy  to  Westbourne  Ter- 
race with  this  letter,  Conolly  went  off  to  lunch.  Mr. 
Lind  went  back  to  his  club,  and  then  to  Westbourne 
Terrace,  where  he  was  informed  that  the  young  ladies 

191 


The  Irrational   Knot 

were  together  in  the  drawing-room.  Some  minutes 
later,  Marian,  discussing  Conolly's  letter  with  Elinor, 
was  interrupted  by  a  servant,  who  informed  her  that 
her  father  desired  to  see  her  in  his  study. 

"  Now  for  it,  Marian!"  said  Nelly,  when  the  servant 
was  gone.  "  Remember  that  you  have  to  meet  the  most 
unreasonable  of  adversaries,  a  parent  asserting  his  pro- 
prietary rights  in  his  child.  Dont  be  sentimental.  Leave 
that  to  him :  he  will  be  full  of  a  father's  anguish  on  dis- 
covering that  his  cherished  daughter  has  feelings  and 
interests  of  her  own.  Besides,  Conolly  has  crushed  him; 
and  he  will  try  to  crush  you  in  revenge." 

"  I  wish  I  were  not  so  nervous,"  said  Marian.  "  I 
am  not  really  afraid,  but  for  all  that,  my  heart  is  beating 
very  unpleasantly." 

"  I  wish  I  were  in  your  place,"  said  Elinor.  "  I  feel 
like  a  charger  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet." 

"  I  am  glad,  for  poor  papa's  sake,  that  you  are  not," 
said  Marian,  going  out. 

She  knocked  at  the  study  door ;  and  her  father's  voice, 
as  he  bade  her  come  in,  impressed  her  more  than  ever 
before.  He  was  seated  behind  the  writing-table,  in 
front  of  which  a  chair  was  set  for  his  daughter.  She, 
unaccustomed  from  her  childhood  to  submit  to  any  con- 
straint but  that  which  the  position  of  a  guest,  which  she 
so  often  occupied,  had  trained  her  to  impose  on  her- 
self, was  rather  roused  than  awed  by  this  magisterial 
arrangement.  She  sat  down  with  less  than  her  usual 
grace  of  manner,  and  looked  at  him  with  her  brows 
knitted.  It  was  one  of  the  rare  moments  in  which  she 
reminded  him  of  her  mother.  An  angry  impulse  to  bid 
her  not  dare  look  so  at  him  almost  got  the  better  of  him. 
However,  he  began  prudently  with  a  carefully  premedi- 
tated speech. 

192 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  It  is  my  duty,  Marian,"  he  said  gravely,  "  to  speak 
of  the  statement  you  made  last  night.  We  need  not  al- 
lude to  the  painful  scene  which  took  place  then:  better 
let  that  rest  and  be  forgotten  as  soon  as  possible.  But 
the  discovery  of  what  you  have  been  doing  without  my 
knowledge  has  cost  me  a  sleepless  night  and  a  great 
deal  of  anxiety.  I  wish  to  reason  with  you  now  quite 
calmly  and  dispassionately;  and  I  trust  you  will  remember 
that  I  am  older  and  have  far  more  experience  of  the 
world  than  you,  and  that  I  am  a  better  judge  of  your 
interests  than  you  yourself  can  possibly  be.  Ahem!  I 
have  been  this  morning  to  the  City,  where  I  saw  Mr. 
Conolly,  and  endeavored  to  make  him  understand  the 
true  nature  of  his  conduct  toward  me — and,  I  may  add, 
toward  you — in  working  his  way  clandestinely  into  an 
intimacy  with  you.  I  shall  not  describe  to  you  what 
passed;  but  I  may  say  that  I  have  found  him  to  be  a 
person  with  whom  you  could  not  hope  for  a  day's  hap- 
piness. Even  apart  from  his  habits  and  tastes,  which 
are  those  of  a  mere  workman,  his  social  (and,  I  fear,  his 
religious)  views  are  such  as  no  lady,  no  properly-minded 
woman  of  any  class,  could  sympathize  with.  You  will 
be  better  able  to  judge  of  his  character  when  I  tell  you 
that  he  informed  me  of  his  having  taken  care,  before 
making  any  advances  to  you,  to  ascertain  how  much 
money  you  had.  He  boasted  in  the  coarsest  terms  of 
his  complete  influence  over  you,  evidently  without  a  sus- 
picion of  the  impression  of  venality  and  indelicacy  which 
his  words  were  calculated  to  make  on  me.  Besides,  Ma- 
rian, I  am  sure  you  would  not  like  to  contract  a  mar- 
riage which  would  give  me  the  greatest  pain;  which 
would  offend  my  family;  and  which  would  have  the 
effect  of  shutting  you  out  from  all  good  society." 

"  You  are  mistaken  in  him,  papa." 

193 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  I  beg  you  will  allow  me  to  finish,  Marian.  [He 
had  to  think  for  a  moment  before  he  could  substantiate 
this  pretence  of  having  something  more  to  say.]  I  have 
quite  made  up  my  mind,  from  personal  observation  of 
Mr.  Conolly,  that  even  an  ordinary  acquaintance  be- 
tween you  is  out  of  the  question.  I,  in  short,  refuse  to 
allow  anything  of  the  kind  to  proceed;  and  I  must  ask 
you  to  respect  my  wishes  in  the  matter.  There  is  an- 
other subject  which  I  will  take  this  opportunity  of  men- 
tioning ;  but  as  I  have  no  desire  to  force  your  inclinations, 
I  shall  not  press  you  for  a  declaration  of  your  feelings 
at  present.  Sholto  Douglas " 

"  I  do  not  want  to  hear  anything  about  Sholto  Doug- 
las," said  Marian,  rising. 

"  I  expect  you,  Marian,  to  listen  to  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  On  that  subject  I  will  not  listen.  I  have  felt  very 
sore  and  angry  ever  since  you  told  me  last  night  to  leave 
the  room  when  Sholto  insulted  me,  as  if  I  were  the 
aggressor." 

"Angry!     I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  say  so  to  me." 

"  It  is  better  to  say  so  than  to  think  so.  There  is  no 
use  in  going  on  with  this  conversation,  papa.  It  will 
only  lead  to  more  bitterness  between  us;  and  I  had  enough 
of  that  when  I  tasted  it  for  the  first  time  last  night.  We 
shall  never  agree  about  Mr.  Conolly.  I  have  promised 
to  marry  him;  and  therefore  I  am  not  free  to  withdraw, 
even  if  I  wished  to." 

"A  promise  made  by  you  without  my  sanction  is  not 
binding.  And — listen  to  me,  if  you  please — I  have  ob- 
tained Mr.  Conolly's  express  assurance  that  if  you  wish 
to  withdraw,  he  is  perfectly  willing  that  you  should." 

"Of  course.  He  would  not  marry  me  if  I  did  not 
wish  it." 

194 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  But  he  is  willing  that  you  should  withdraw.  He 
leaves  you  quite  free." 

"  Yes ;  and,  as  you  told  me,  he  is  quite  confident  that 
I  will  keep  faith  with  him ;  and  so  I  will.  I  have  had  a 
letter  from  him  since  you  saw  him." 

"  What !  "  said  Mr.  Lind,  rising  also. 

"  Dont  let  us  quarrel,  papa,"  said  Marian,  appealingly. 
"  Why  may  I  not  marry  whom  I  please?  " 

"  Who  wants  to  prevent  you,  pray  ?  I  have  most 
carefully  abstained  from  influencing  you  with  regard 
to  Sholto  Douglas.  But  this  is  a  totally  different  ques- 
tion. It  is  my  duty  to  save  you  from  disgracing  your- 
self." 

"  Where  is  the  disgrace  ?  Mr.  Conolly  is  an  eminent 
man.  I  am  not  poor,  and  can  afford  to  marry  anyone 
I  can  respect.  I  can  respect  him.  What  objection  have 
you  to  him?  I  am  sure  he  is  far  superior  to  Sholto." 

"  Mr.  Douglas  is  a  gentleman,  Marian :  Mr.  Conolly 
is  not;  and  it  is  out  of  the  question  for  you  to  ally 
yourself  with  a — a  member  of  the  proletariat,  however 
skilful  he  may  be  in  his  handicraft." 

"  What  is  a  gentleman,  papa  ?  " 

"A  gentleman,  Marian,  is  one  who  is  well  born  and 
well  bred,  and  who  has  that  peculiar  tone  and  culture 
which  can  only  be  acquired  by  intercourse  with  the  best 
society.  I  think  you  should  know  that  as  well  as  I.  I 
hope  you  do  not  put  these  questions  from  a  desire  to 
argue  with  me." 

"  I  only  wish  to  do  what  is  right.  Surely  there  is  no 
harm  in  arguing  when  one  is  not  convinced." 

"  Humph !  Well,  I  have  said  all  that  is  necessary.  I 
feel  sure  that  you  will  not  take  any  step  calculated  to 

195 


The   Irrational   Knot 

inflict  pain  on  me — at  least  an  act  of  selfishness  on  your 
part  would  be  a  new  and  shocking  experience  for  me." 

"  That  is  a  very  unfair  way  of  putting  it,  papa.  You 
give  me  no  good  reason  for  breaking  my  word,  and  mak- 
ing myself  unhappy;  and  yet  you  accuse  me  of  selfish- 
ness in  not  being  ready  to  do  both." 

"  I  think  I  have  already  given  you  my  assurance, 
weighted  as  it  is  by  my  age,  my  experience,  my  regard 
for  your  welfare,  and,  I  hope,  my  authority  as  a  parent, 
that  both  your  honor  and  happiness  will  be  secured  by 
your  obeying  me,  and  forfeited  by  following  your  own 
headstrong  inclinations." 

Marian,  almost  crushed  by  this,  hesitated  a  moment, 
twisting  her  fingers  and  looking  pitiably  at  him.  Then 
she  thought  of  Conolly;  rallied;  and  said:  "  I  can  only 
say  that  I  am  sorry  to  disagree  with  you;  but  I  am  not 
convinced." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  refuse  to  obey  me  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  obey  you  in  this  matter,  papa.     I " 

"  That  is  enough,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  gravely,  beginning 
to  busy  himself  with  the  writing  materials.  Marian  for 
a  moment  seemed  about  to  protest  against  this  dismissal. 
Then  she  checked  herself  and  went  out  of  the  room, 
closing  the  door  quite  quietly  behind  her,  thereby  un- 
consciously terrifying  her  father,  who  had  calculated  on 
a  slam. 

"  Well,"  said  Elinor,  when  her  cousin  rejoined  her  in 
the  drawing-room:  "  have  you  been  selfish  and  disobe- 
dient ?  Have  you  lacerated  a  father's  heart  ?  " 

"  He  is  thoroughly  unfair,"  said  Marian.  "  However, 
it  all  comes  to  this:  he  is  annoyed  at  my  wanting  to 
marry  Ned;  and  I  believe  there  will  be  no  more  peace 
for  me  until  I  am  in  a  house  of  my  own.  What  shall 

196 


The   Irrational   Knot 

we  do  in  the  meantime?  Where  shall  we  go?  I  cannot 
stay  here." 

"  Why  not  ?  Uncle  Reginald  will  sulk ;  sit  at  dinner 
without  speaking  to  us;  and  keep  out  of  our  way  as 
much  as  he  can.  But  you  can  talk  to  me:  we  neednt 
mind  him.  It  is  he  who  will  be  out  in  the  cold,  biting 
his  nose  to  vex  his  face.  Such  a  state  of  things  is  new 
to  you;  but  I  have  survived  weeks  of  it  without  a  single 
sympathizer,  and  been  none  the  worse,  except,  perhaps, 
in  temper.  He  will  pretend  to  be  inexorable  at  first: 
then  he  will  come  down  to  wounded  affection;  and  he 
will  end  by  giving  in." 

"  No,  Nelly,  I  couldnt  endure  that  sort  of  existence. 
If  people  cannot  remain  friends  they  should  separate  at 
once.  I  will  not  sleep  in  this  house  to-night." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Miss  McQuinch.  "That  will  be 
beginning  the  war  with  spirit.  If  I  were  in  your  place, 
I  would  stay  and  fight  it  out  at  close  quarters.  I  would 
make  myself  so  disagreeable  that  nobody  can  imagine 
what  life  in  this  house  would  be.  But  your  plan  is  the 
best — if  you  really  mean  it." 

"  Certainly  I  mean  it.     Where  shall  we  go,  Nelly  ?  " 

"  Hm !  I  am  afraid  none  of  the  family  would  make 
us  very  comfortable  under  the  circumstances,  except 
Marmaduke.  It  would  be  a  splendid  joke  to  go  to  West 
Kensington;  only  it  would  tell  as  much  against 
us  and  Ned  as  against  the  Roman  father.  I  have  it! 
We  will  go  to  Mrs.  Toplis's  in  St.  Mary's  Terrace:  my 
mother  always  stays  there  when  she  is  in  town.  Mrs. 
Toplis  knows  us :  if  she  has  a  room  to  spare  she  will 
give  it  to  us  without  making  any  bother." 

"  Yes,  that  will  do.     Are  you  ready  to  come  now  ?  " 

"If  you  can  possibly  wait  five  minutes  I  should  like 

197 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  put  on  my  hat  and  change  my  boots.  We  will  have 
to  come  back  and  pack  up  when  we  have  settled  about 
the  room.  We  cannot  go  without  clothes.  I  should 
like  to  have  a  nightdress,  at  least.  Have  you  any 
money  ?  " 

"  I  have  the  housekeeping  money;  but  that,  of  course, 
I  shall  not  take.  I  have  thirty  pounds  of  my  own." 

"And  I  have  my  old  stocking,  which  contains  nearly 
seventeen.  Say  fifty  in  round  numbers.  That  will  keep 
us  going  very  comfortably  for  a  month." 

"  Ridiculous !     It  will  last  longer  than  that     Oh !  " 

"Well?" 

"  We  mustnt  go,  after  all.     I  forgot  you." 

"What  of  me?" 

"  Where  will  you  go  when  I  am  married  ?  You  cant 
live  by  yourself;  and  papa  may  not  welcome  you  back 
if  you  take  my  part  against  him." 

"  He  would  not,  in  any  case;  so  it  makes  no  difference 
to  me.  I  can  go  home  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst. 
It  does  not  matter :  my  present  luxurious  existence  must 
come  to  an  end  some  time  or  another,  whether  we  go  to 
Mrs.  Toplis's  or  not." 

"  I  am  sure  Ned  will  not  object  to  your  continuing  with 
me,  if  I  ask  him." 

"No,  poor  fellow!  He  wont  object — at  first;  but  he 
might  not  like  it.  You  have  no  right  to  inflict  me  on 
him.  No:  I  stick  to  my  resolution  on  that  point.  Send 
for  the  carriage.  It  is  time  for  us  to  be  off;  and  Mrs. 
Toplis  will  be  more  impressed  if  we  come  in  state  than 
if  we  trudge  afoot." 

"  Hush,"  said  Marian,  who  was  standing  near  the 
window.  "  Here  is  George,  with  a  face  full  of  im- 
portance." 

198 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Uncle  Reginald  has  written  to  him,"  said  Elinor. 

"  Then  the  sooner  we  go,  the  better,"  said  Marian. 
"  I  do  not  care  to  have  the  whole  argument  over  again 
with  George." 

As  they  passed  through  the  hall  on  their  way  out  they 
met  the  clergyman. 

"  Well,  George,"  said  Elinor,  "  how  are  the  heathen 
getting  on  in  Belgravia  ?  You  look  lively." 

"Are  you  going  out,  Marian,"  he  said,  solemnly,  dis- 
regarding his  cousin's  banter. 

"  We  are  going  to  engage  a  couple  of  rooms  for  some 
errant  members  of  the  family,"  said  Elinor.  "  May  we 
give  you  as  a  reference  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  I  may  want  to  speak  to  you  before  I  go, 
Marian.  When  will  you  return  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  Probably  we  shall  not  be  long.  You 
will  have  plenty  of  opportunities,  in  any  case." 

"  Will  you  walk  into  the  study,  please,  sir,"  said  the 
parlormaid. 

The  Rev.  George  was  closeted  with  his  father  for  an 
hour.  When  he  came  out,  he  left  the  house,  and  travelled 
by  omnibus  to  Westbourne  Grove,  whence  he  walked  to  a 
house  in  Uxbridge  Road.  Here  he  inquired  for  Mr.  Con- 
olly,  and,  learning  that  he  had  just  come  in,  sent  up  a 
card.  He  was  presently  ushered  into  a  comfortable  room, 
with  a  pleasant  view  of  the  garden.  A  meal  of  tea, 
wheatcakes,  and  fruit  was  ready  on  the  table.  Conolly 
greeted  his  visitor  cordially,  and  rang  for  another  cup. 
The  Rev.  George  silently  noted  that  his  host  dined  in 
the  middle  of  the  day  and  had  tea  in  the  evening.  Afraid 
though  as  he  was  of  Conolly,  he  felt  strengthened  in  his 
mission  by  these  habits,  quite  out  of  the  question  for 
Marian.  The  tea  also  screwed  up  his  courage  a  little; 

199 


The   Irrational   Knot 

but  he  talked  about  the  electro-motor  in  spite  of  himself 
until  the  cloth  was  removed,  when  Conolly  placed  two 
easy  chairs  opposite  one  another  at  the  window ;  put  a 
box  of  cigarets  on  a  little  table  close  at  hand ;  and  invited 
his  visitor  to  smoke.  But  as  it  was  now  clearly  time  to 
come  to  business,  the  cigaret  was  declined  solemnly.  So 
Conolly,  having  settled  himself  in  an  easy  attitude,  waited 
for  the  clergyman  to  begin.  The  Rev.  George  seemed 
at  a  loss. 

"  Has  your  father  spoken  to  you  about  an  interview 
he  had  with  me  this  morning  ? "  said  Conolly,  good- 
naturedly  helping  him  out. 

"  Yes.    That,  in  fact,  is  one  of  the  causes  of  my  visit." 

"What  does  he  say?" 

"  I  believe  he  adheres  to  the  opinion  he  expressed  to 
you.  But  I  fear  he  may  not  have  exhibited  that  self-con- 
trol in  speaking  to  you  which  I  fully  admit  you  have  as 
much  right  to  expect  as  anyone  else." 

"  It  does  not  matter.  I  can  quite  understand  his  feel- 
ing." 

"  It  does  matter — pardon  me.  We  should  be  sorry  to 
appear  wanting  in  consideration  for  you." 

"  That  is  a  trifle.  Let  us  keep  the  question  straight 
before  us.  We  need  make  no  show  of  consideration 
for  one  another.  I  have  shown  none  toward  your 
family." 

"  But  I  assure  you  our  only  desire  is  to  arrange  every- 
thing in  a  friendly  spirit." 

"  No  doubt.  But  when  I  am  bent  on  doing  a  certain 
thing  which  you  are  equally  bent  on  preventing,  no  very 
friendly  spirit  is  possible  except  one  of  us  surrender  un- 
conditionally." 

"  Hear  me  a  moment,  Mr.  Conolly.    I  have  no  doubt 

200 


The   Irrational   Knot 

I  shall  be  able  to  convince  you  that  this  romantic  project 
of  my  sister's  is  out  of  the  question.  Your  ambition — 
if  I  may  say  so  without  offence — very  naturally  leads 
you  to  think  otherwise;  but  the  prompting  of  self-inter- 
est is  not  our  safest  guide  in  this  life." 

"  It  is  the  only  guide  I  recognize.  If  you  are  going 
to  argue  the  question,  and  your  arguments  are  to  prevail, 
they  must  be  addressed  to  my  self-interest." 

"  I  cannot  think  you  quite  mean  that,  Mr.  Conolly." 

"  Well,  waive  the  point  for  the  present :  I  am  open  to 
conviction.  You  know  what  my  mind  is.  I  have  not 
changed  it  since  I  saw  your  father  this  morning.  You 
think  I  am  wrong  ?  " 

"  Not  wrong.  I  do  not  say  for  a  moment  that  you 
are  wrong.  I " 

"  Mistaken.     Ill-advised.     Any  term  you  like." 

"  I  certainly  believe  that  you  are  mistaken.  Let  me 
urge  upon  you  first  the  fact  that  you  are  causing  a 
daughter  to  disobey  her  father.  Now  that  is  an  awful 
fact.  May  I — appealing  to  that  righteousness  in  which 
I  am  sure  you  are  not  naturally  deficient — ask  you 
whether  you  have  reflected  on  that  fact  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  half  so  awful  to  me  as  the  fact  of  a  father 
forcing  his  daughter's  inclinations.  However,  awful 
is  hardly  the  word  for  the  occasion.  Let  us  come  to 
business,  Mr.  Lind.  I  want  to  marry  your  sister  be- 
cause I  have  fallen  in  love  with  her.  You  object.  Have 
you  any  other  motive  than  aristocratic  exclusiveness  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  you  quite  mistake.  I  have  no  such  feeling. 
We  are  willing  to  treat  you  with  every  possible  con- 
sideration." 

"Then  why  object?" 

"  Well,  we  are  bound  to  look  to  her  happiness.     We 

20 1 


The   Irrational   Knot 

cannot  believe  that  it  would  be  furthered  by  an  unsuit- 
able match.  I  am  now  speaking  to  you  frankly  as  a 
man  of  the  world." 

"As  a  man  of  the  world  you  know  that  she  has  a  right 
to  choose  for  herself.  You  see,  our  points  of  view  are 
different.  On  Sundays,  for  instance,  you  preach  to  a 
highly  privileged  audience  at  your  church  in  Belgravia; 
whilst  I  lounge  here  over  my  breakfast,  reading  Rey- 
nold's Newspaper.  I  have  not  many  social  prejudices. 
Although  a  workman,  I  dont  look  on  every  gentleman  as 
a  bloodsucker  who  seizes  on  the  fruits  of  my  labor  only 
to  pursue  a  career  of  vice.  I  will  even  admit  that  there 
are  gentlemen  who  deserve  to  be  respected  more  than 
the  workmen  who  have  neglected  all  their  opportunities 
— slender  as  they  are — of  cultivating  themselves  a  little. 
You,  on  the  other  hand,  know  that  an  honest  man's  the 
noblest  work  of  God;  that  nature's  gentlemen  are  the 
only  real  gentlemen;  that  kind  hearts  are  more  than 
coronets,  and  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood,  and  so 
forth.  But  when  your  approval  of  these  benevolent 
claptraps  is  brought  to  such  a  practical  test  as  the  mar- 
riage of  your  sister  to  a  workman,  you  see  clearly  enough 
that  they  do  not  establish  the  suitability  of  personal  in- 
tercourse between  members  of  different  classes.  That 
being  so,  let  us  put  our  respective  philosophies  of  society 
out  of  the  question,  and  argue  on  the  facts  of  this  par- 
ticular case.  What  qualifications  do  you  consider  essen- 
tial in  a  satisfactory  brother-in-law  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  bound  to  answer  that ;  but,  primarily,  I 
should  consider  it  necessary  to  my  sister's  happiness 
that  her  husband  should  belong  to  the  same  rank  as  she." 

"You  see  you  are  changing  your  ground.  I  am  not 
in  the  same  rank — after  your  sense — as  she;  but  a  mo- 

202 


The   Irrational   Knot 

ment  ago  you  objected  to  the  match  solely  on  the  ground 
of  unsuitability." 

"  Where  is  the  difference  ?  "  said  the  clergyman,  with 
some  warmth.  "  I  have  not  changed  my  ground  at  all. 
It  is  the  difference  in  rank  that  constitutes  the  unsuit- 
ability. 

"  Let  us  see,  then,  how  far  you  are  right — how  far 
suitability  is  a  question  of  rank.  A  gentleman  may  be, 
and  frequently  is,  a  drunkard,  a  gambler,  a  libertine,  or 
all  three  combined." 

"  Stay,  Mr.  Conolly !  You  show  how  little  you  under- 
stand the  only  true  significance " 

"  One  moment,  Mr.  Lind.  You  are  about  to  explain 
away  the  term  gentleman  into  man  of  honor,  honest 
man,  or  some  other  quite  different  thing.  Let  me  put 
a  case  to  you.  I  have  a  fellow  at  Queen  Victoria  Street 
working  for  thirty  shillings  a  week,  who  is  the  honestest 
man  I  know.  He  is  as  steady  as  a  rock;  supports  all 
his  wife's  family  without  complaining;  and  denies  him- 
self beer  to  buy  books  for  his  son,  because  he  himself 
has  experienced  what  it  is  to  be  without  education.  But 
he  is  not  a  gentleman." 

"  Pardon  me,  sir.     He  is  a  true  gentleman." 

"  Suppose  he  calls  on  you  to-morrow,  and  sends  up  his 
name  with  a  request  for  an  interview.  You  wont  know 
his  name;  and  the  first  question  you  will  put  to  your 
servant  is  '  What  sort  of  person  is  he  ? '  Suppose  the 
servant  knows  him,  and,  sharing  your  professed  opinion 
of  the  meaning  of  the  word,  replies  '  He  is  a  gentleman  ! ' 
On  the  strength  of  that  you  will  order  him  to  be  shewn 
in ;  and  the  moment  you  see  him  you  will  feel  angry  with 
your  servant  for  deceiving  you  completely  as  to  the  sort 
of  man  you  were  to  expect  by  using  the  word  gentleman 

203 


The   Irrational   Knot 

in  what  you  call  its  true  sense.  Or  reverse  the  case. 
Suppose  the  caller  is  your  cousin,  Mr.  Marmaduke  Lind, 
and  your  high-principled  servant  by  mistaking  the  name 
or  how  not,  causes  you  to  ask  the  same  question  with 
respect  to  him.  The  answer  will  be  that  Mr.  Marmaduke 
— being  a  scamp — is  not  a  gentleman.  You  would  be 
just  as  completely  deceived  as  in  the  other  case.  No, 
Mr.  Lind,  you  might  as  well  say  that  this  workman  of 
mine  is  a  true  lord  or  a  true  prince  as  a  true  gentleman. 
A  gentleman  may  be  a  rogue;  and  a  knifegrinder  may  be 
a  philosopher  and  philanthropist.  But  they  dont  change 
their  ranks  for  all  that." 

The  clergyman  hesitated.  Then  he  said  timidly, 
"  Even  admitting  this  peculiar  view  of  yours,  Mr.  Con- 
oily,  does  it  not  tell  strongly  against  yourself  in  the 
present  instance  ?  " 

"  No ;  and  I  will  presently  shew  you  why  not.  When 
we  digressed  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  word  gentleman, 
we  were  considering  the  matter  of  suitability.  I  was 
saying  that  a  gentleman  might  be  a  drunkard,  or,  briefly, 
a  scoundrel.  A  scoundrel  would  be  a  very  unsuitable 
husband  for  Marian — I  perceive  I  annoy  you  by  call- 
ing her  by  her  name." 

"  N — no.     Oh,  no.     It  does  not  matter." 

"  Therefore  gentility  alone  is  no  guarantee  of  suita- 
bility. The  only  gentlemanliness  she  needs  in  a  husband 
is  ordinary  good  address,  presentable  manners,  sense 
enough  to  avoid  ridiculous  solecisms  in  society,  and  so 
forth.  Marian  is  satisfied  with  me  on  these  points;  and 
her  approval  settles  the  question  finally.  As  to  rank,  I 
am  a  skilled  workman,  the  first  in  my  trade;  and  it  is 
only  by  courtesy  and  forbearance  that  I  suffer  any  man 
to  speak  of  my  class  as  inferior.  Take  us  all,  professions 

204 


The   Irrational   Knot 

and  trades  together;  and  you  will  find  by  actual  measure- 
ment round  the  head  and  round  the  chest,  and  round  our 
manners  and  characters,  if  you  like,  that  we  are  the  only 
genuine  aristocracy  at  present  in  existence.  Therefore 
I  meet  your  objection  to  my  rank  with  a  point-blank 
assertion  of  its  superiority.  Now  let  us  have  the  other 
objections,  if  there  are  any  others." 

The  clergyman  received  this  challenge  in  silence. 
Then,  after  clearing  his  throat  uneasily  twice,  he  said: 

"  I  had  hoped,  Mr.  Conolly,  to  have  been  able  to  per- 
suade you  on  general  grounds  to  relinquish  your  design. 
But  as  you  are  evidently  not  within  reach  of  those  con- 
siderations which  I  am  accustomed  to  see  universally 
admitted,  it  becomes  my  painful  duty  to  assure  you  that 
a  circumstance,  on  the  secrecy  of  which  you  are  relying, 
is  known  to  me,  and,  through  me,  to  my  father." 

"  What  circumstance  is  that  ?  " 

"A  circumstance  connected  with  Mr.  Marmaduke 
Lind,  whom  you  mentioned  just  now.  You  understand 
me,  I  presume  ?  " 

"Oh!  you  have  found  that  out?" 

"  I  have.  It  only  remains  for  me  to  warn  my  sister 
that  she  is  about  to  contract  a  close  relationship  with  one 
who  is — I  must  say  it — living  in  sin  with  our  cousin." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  will  be  the  result  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  leave  you  to  imagine,"  said  the  clergyman  indig- 
nantly, rising. 

"  Stop  a  bit.  You  do  not  understand  me  yet,  I  see. 
You  have  said  that  my  views  are  peculiar.  What  if  I 
have  taken  the  peculiar  view  that  I  was  bound  to  tell 
Marian  this  before  proposing  to  her,  and  have  actually 
told  her?" 

"  But  surely That  is  not  very  likely." 

205 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  The  whole  affair  is  not  very  likely.  Our  marriage 
is  not  likely;  but  it  is  going  to  happen,  nevertheless. 
She  knows  this  circumstance  perfectly  well.  You  told 
her  yourself." 

"I!     When?" 

"  The  year  before  last,  at  Carbury  Towers.  It  is  worth 
your  consideration,  too,  that  by  mistrusting  Marian  at 
that  time,  and  refusing  to  give  her  my  sister's  address, 
you  forced  her  to  appeal  to  me  for  help,  and  so  advanced 
me  from  the  position  of  consulting  electrician  to  that  of 
friend  in  need.  She  knew  nothing  about  my  relation- 
ship to  the  woman  in  a  state  of  sin  (as  you  call  it),  and 
actually  deputed  me  to  warn  your  cousin  of  the  risk  he 
was  running  by  his  intimacy  with  her.  Whilst  I  was 
away  running  this  queer  errand  for  her,  she  found  out 
that  the  woman  was  my  sister,  and  of  course  rushed  to 
the  conclusion  that  she  had  inflicted  the  deepest  pain  on 
me.  Her  penitence  was  the  beginning  of  the  sentimental 
side  of  our  acquaintance.  Had  you  recognized  that  she 
was  a  woman  with  as  good  a  right  as  you  to  know  the 
truth  concerning  all  matters  in  this  world  which  she  has 
to  make  her  way  through,  you  would  have  answered 
her  question,  and  then  I  suppose  I  should  have  gone 
away  without  having  exchanged  a  word  with  her  on 
any  more  personal  matters  than  induction  coils  and  ohms 
of  resistance;  and  in  all  probability  you  would  have  been 
spared  the  necessity  of  having  me  for  a  brother-in-law." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  Rev.  George  dejectedly,  "  if 
what  you  say  be  true,  I  cannot  understand  Marian,  I 
can  only  grieve  for  her.  I  shall  not  argue  with  you  on 
the  nature  of  the  influence  you  have  obtained  over  her. 
I  shall  speak  to  her  myself;  since  you  will  not  hear  me." 

206 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  That  is  hardly  fair.  I  have  heard  you,  and  am  will- 
ing to  hear  more,  if  you  have  anything  new  to  urge." 

"  You  have  certainly  listened  to  my  voice,  Mr.  Conolly. 
But  I  fear  I  have  used  it  to  very  little  purpose." 

"  You  will  fail  equally  with  Marian,  believe  me.  Even 
I,  whose  ability  to  exercise  influence  you  admit,  never 
obtained  the  least  over  my  own  sister.  She  knew  me 
too  well  on  my  worst  side  and  not  at  all  on  my  best.  If, 
as  I  presume,  your  father  has  tried  in  vain,  what  hope 
is  there  for  you  ?  " 

"  Only  my  humble  trust  that  a  priest  may  be  blessed 
in  his  appeal  to  duty  even  where  a  father's  appeal  to 
natural  affection  has  been  disregarded." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Conolly,  kindly,  rising  as  his  visitor 
disconsolately  prepared  to  go,  "  you  can  try.  /  got  on 
by  dint  of  dogged  faith  in  myself." 

"And  I  get  on  by  lowly  faith  in  my  Master.  I  would 
I  could  imbue  you  with  the  same  feeling !  " 

Conolly  shook  his  head;  and  they  went  downstairs  in 
silence.  "  Hallo !  "  said  he,  as  he  opened  the  door,  "  it  is 
raining.  Let  me  lend  you  a  coat." 

"  Thank  you,  no.  Not  at  all.  Good-night,"  said  the 
clergyman,  quickly,  and  hastened  away  through  the  rain 
from  Conolly 's  civilities. 

When  he  arrived  at  Westbourne  Terrace,  there  was  a 
cab  waiting  before  the  house.  The  door  was  opened  to 
him  by  Marian's  maid,  who  was  dressed  for  walking. 

"  Master  is  in  the  drawing-room,  sir,  with  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch,"  she  said,  meaning,  evidently,  "  Look  out  for 
squalls." 

He  went  upstairs,  and  found  Elinor,  with  her  hat  on, 
standing  by  the  pianoforte,  with  battle  in  her  nostrils. 

207 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Mr.  Lind,  looking  perplexed  and  angry,  was  opposite 
to  her. 

"  George,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  "  close  the  door.  Do  you 
know  the  latest  news  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Marian  has  run  away !  " 

"  Run  away !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  McQuinch.  "  She  has  fled  to  Mrs. 
Toplis's,  at  St.  Mary's  Terrace,  with — as  Uncle  Regi- 
nald was  just  saying — a  most  dangerous  associate." 

"With ?" 

"  With  me,  in  short." 

"And  you  have  counselled  her  to  take  this  fatal  step  ?  " 

"  No.  I  advised  her  to  stay.  But  she  is  not  so  well 
used  to  domestic  discomfort  as  I  am;  so  she  insisted  on 
going.  We  have  got  very  nice  rooms:  you  may  come 
and  see  us,  if  you  like." 

"  Is  this  a  time  to  display  your  bitter  and  flippant 
humor  ?  "  said  the  Rev.  George,  indignantly.  "  I  think 
the  spectacle  of  a  wrecked  home " 

"  Stuff !  "  interrupted  Elinor,  impatiently.  "  What 
else  can  I  say?  Uncle  Reginald  tells  me  I  have  cor- 
rupted Marian,  and  refuses  to  believe  what  I  tell  him. 
And  now  you  attack  me,  as  if  it  were  my  fault  that  you 
have  driven  her  away.  If  you  want  to  see  her,  she  is 
within  five  minutes  walk  of  you.  It  is  you  who  have 
wrecked  her  home,  not  she  who  has  wrecked  yours." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  speaking  to  Elinor,  George,"  said 
Mr.  Lind,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  tried  it.  "  You 
had  better  go  to  Marian,  and  tell  her  what  you  mentioned 
this  afternoon.  What  has  been  the  result  of  your  visit  ?  " 

"  He  maintains  that  she  knows  everything,"  said  the 

208 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Rev.  George,  with  a  dispirited  glance  at  Elinor.  "  I 
fear  my  visit  has  been  worse  than  useless." 

"  It  is  impossible  that  she  should  know.  He  lies," 
said  Mr.  Lind.  "  Go  and  tell  her  the  truth,  George;  and 
say  that  I  desire  her — I  order  her — to  come  back  at  once. 
Say  that  I  am  waiting  here  for  her." 

"  But,  Uncle  Reginald,"  began  Elinor,  in  a  softer  tone 
than  before,  whilst  the  clergyman  stood  in  doubt 

"  I  think,"  continued  Mr.  Lind,  "  that  I  must  request 
you,  Elinor,  to  occupy  the  rooms  you  have  taken,  until 
you  return  to  your  parents.  I  regret  that  you  have 
forced  me  to  take  this  step;  but  I  cannot  continue  to 
offer  you  facilities  for  exercising  your  influence  over  my 
daughter.  I  will  charge  myself  with  all  your  expenses 
until  you  go  to  Wiltshire." 

Elinor  looked  at  him  as  if  she  despaired  of  his  reason. 
Then,  seeing  her  cousin  slowly  going  to  the  door,  she 
said: 

"  You  dont  really  mean  to  go  on  such  a  fool's  errand 
to  Marian,  George  ?  " 

"Elinor!"  cried  Mr.  Lind. 

"What  else  is  it?"  said  Elinor.  "You  asserted  all 
your  authority  yourself  this  morning,  and  only  made 
matters  worse.  Yet  you  expect  her  to  obey  you  at 
second  hand.  Besides,  she  is  bound  in  honor  not  to 
desert  me  now;  and  I  will  tell  her  so,  too,  if  I  see  any 
sign  of  her  letting  herself  be  bullied." 

"  I  fear  Marian  will  not  pay  much  heed  to  what  I  say 
to  her,"  said  the  clergyman. 

"  If  you  are  coming,"  said  Elinor,  "  you  had  better 
come  in  my  cab.  Good-night,  Uncle  Reginald." 

"  Stay,"   said   Mr.   Lind,   irresolutely.     "  Elinor,   I — 

209 


The  Irrational   Knot 

you —  Will  you  exercise  your  influence  to  induce  Ma- 
rian to  return?  I  think  you  owe  me  at  least  so  much." 

"  I  will  if  you  will  withdraw  your  opposition  to  her 
marriage  and  let  her  do  as  she  likes.  But  if  you  can  give 
her  no  better  reason  for  returning  than  that  she  can  be 
more  conveniently  persecuted  here  than  at  St.  Mary's 
Terrace,  she  will  probably  stay  where  she  is,  no  matter 
how  I  may  influence  her." 

"  If  she  is  resolved  to  quarrel  with  me,  I  cannot  help 
it,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  pettishly. 

"  You  know  very  well  that  she  is  the  last  person  on 
earth  to  quarrel  with  anyone." 

"  She  has  been  indulged  in  every  way.  This  is  the 
first  time  she  has  been  asked  to  sacrifice  her  own  wishes." 

"  To  sacrifice  her  whole  life,  you  mean.  It  is  the  first 
time  she  has  ever  hesitated  to  sacrifice  her  own  comfort, 
and  therefore  the  first  time  you  are  conscious  that  any 
sacrifice  is  required.  Let  me  tell  her  that  you  will 
allow  her  to  take  her  own  course,  Uncle  Reginald.  He 
is  well  enough  off;  and  they  are  fond  of  one  another. 
A  man  of  genius  is  worth  fifty  men  of  rank." 

"  Tell  her,  if  you  please,  Elinor,  that  she  must  choose 
between  Mr.  Conolly  and  me.  If  she  prefers  him,  well 
and  good:  I  have  done  with  her.  That  is  my  last  word." 

"  So  now  she  has  nobody  to  turn  to  in  the  world 
except  him.  That  is  sensible.  Come,  cousin  George! 
I  am  off." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  should  do  any  good  by  going," 
said  the  clergyman. 

"  Then  stay  where  you  are,"  said  Elinor.  "  Good- 
night." And  she  abruptly  left  the  room. 

"  It  was  a  dreadful  mistake  ever  to  have  allowed  that 

2IO 


The   Irrational   Knot 

young  fury  to  enter  the  house,"  said  Mr.  Lind.  "She 
must  be  mad.  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  said  a  great  deal  in  attempted  self -justification. 
But  I  could  make  no  impression  on  him.  We  have  nq 
feelings  in  common  with  a  man  of  his  type.  No.  He  is 
evidently  bent  on  raising  himself  by  a  good  marriage." 

"  We  cannot  prevent  it." 

"  Oh,  surely  we " 

"  I  tell  you  we  cannot  prevent  it,"  repeated  Mr.  Lind, 
turning  angrily  upon  his  son.  "  How  can  we  ?  What 
can  we  do?  She  will  marry  this — this — this — this  beg-, 
gar.  I  wish  to  God  I  had  never  seen  her  mother." 

The  clergyman  stood  by,  cowed,  and  said  nothing. 

"  You  had  better  go  to  that  woman  of  Marmaduke's," 
continued  Mr.  Lind,  "  and  try  whether  she  can  persuade 
her  brother  to  commute  his  interest  in  the  company,  and 
go  back  to  America,  or  to  the  devil.  I  will  take  care 
that  he  gets  good  terms,  even  if  I  have  to  make  them 
up  out  of  my  own  pocket.  If  the  worst  comes,  she  must 
be  persuaded  to  leave  Marmaduke.  Offer  her  money. 
Women  of  that  sort  drive  a  hard  bargain;  but  they  have 
their  price." 

"  But,  sir,  consider  my  profession.  How  can  I  go  to 
drive  a  bargain  with  a  woman  of  evil  reputation  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  must  go  myself,  I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  will  go.  Only  I  thought  I  would  men- 
tion it." 

"A  clergyman  can  go  anywhere.  You  are  privileged. 
Come  to  breakfast  in  the  morning:  we  can  talk  over 
matters  then." 


211 


CHAPTER   XI 

ONE  morning  the  Rev.  George  Lind  received  a 
letter  addressed  in  a  handwriting  which  he  did 
not  remember  and  never  thenceforth  forgot. 
Within  the  envelope  he  found  a  dainty  little  bag  made  of 
blue  satin,  secured  by  ribbons  of  the  same  material.  This 
contained  a  note  written  on  scented  paper,  edged  with 
gold,  and  decorated  with  a  miniature  representation  of 
a  pierrot,  sitting  cross-legged,  conning  a  book,  on  the 
open  pages  of  which  appeared  the  letters  L.  V.  The 
clergyman  recognized  the  monogram  no  more  than  the 
writing.  But  as  it  was  evidently  from  a  lady,  he  felt 
a  pleasant  thrill  of  expectation  as  he  unfolded  the  paper. 

"  Laurel  Grove  West  Kensington 

"  Wednesday 
"  Dear  Mr.  George 

"  I  have  made  poor  little  Lucy  believe  that  Kew 
is  the  most  heavenly  place  on  earth  to  spend  a  May  morn- 
ing so  Bob  has  had  to  promise  to  row  her  down  there 
to-morrow  (Thursday)  after  breakfast  and  I  shall  be 
at  home  alone  from  eleven  to  one  this  is  very  short 
notice  I  know  but  opportunities  are  scarce  and  another 
might  not  present  itself  for  a  month. 
"  Believe  me  Dear  Mr.  George 

"  Yours  sincerely 

LALAGE  VIRTUE." 

The  Rev.  George  became  thoughtful,  and  absently  put 
the  note  in  a  little  rack  over  the  mantelpiece.  Then, 
recollecting  that  a  prying  servant  or  landlady  might 

212 


The   Irrational   Knot 

misinterpret  it,  he  transferred  it  to  his  pocket.  After 
breakfast,  having  satisfied  himself  before  the  mirror 
that  his  dress  was  faultless,  and  his  expression  saintly, 
he  went  out  and  travelled  by  rail  from  Sloane  Square 
to  West  Kensington,  whence  he  walked  to  Laurel  Grove. 
An  elderly  maid  opened  the  gate.  It  was  a  rule  with  the 
Rev.  George  not  to  look  at  strange  women;  and  this 
morning  the  asceticism  which  he  thought  proper  to  his 
office  was  unusually  prominent  in  his  thoughts.  He  did 
not  look  up  once  while  the  maid  conducted  him  through 
the  shrubbery  to  the  house;  and  he  fully  believed  that 
he  had  not  seen  at  the  first  glance  that  she  was  remark- 
ably plain,  as  Susanna  took  care  that  all  her  servants 
should  be.  Passing  by  the  drawing-room,  where  he  had 
been  on  a  previous  occasion,  they  went  on  to  a  smaller 
apartment  at  the  back  of  the  house. 

"  What  room  is  this  ?  "  he  asked,  uneasily. 

"  Missus's  Pur j in  bodoor,  sir,"  replied  the  maid. 

She  opened  the  door;  and  the  clergyman,  entering, 
found  himself  in  a  small  room,  luxuriously  decorated  in 
sham  Persian,  but  containing  ornaments  of  all  styles  and 
periods,  which  had  been  purchased  and  introduced  just 
as  they  had  caught  Susanna's  fancy.  She  was  seated 
on  an  ottoman,  dressed  in  wide  trousers,  Turkish  slip- 
pers, a  voluminous  sash,  a  short  Greek  jacket,  a  long 
silk  robe  with  sleeves,  and  a  turban,  all  of  fine  soft 
materials  and  rare  colors.  Her  face  was  skilfully  paint- 
ed, and  her  dark  hair  disposed  so  as  not  to  overweight 
her  small  head.  The  clergyman,  foolishly  resisting  a 
natural  impulse  to  admire  her,  felt  like  St.  Anthony 
struggling  with  the  fascination  of  a  disguised  devil.  He 
responded  to  her  smile  of  welcome  by  a  stiff  bow. 

"  Sit  down,"  she  said.    "  You  mustnt  mind  this  absurd 

213 


The   Irrational   Knot 

dress:  it  belongs  to  a  new  piece  I  am  studying.  I  always 
study  in  character.  It  is  the  only  way  to  identify  my- 
self with  my  part,  you  see." 

"  It  seems  a  very  magnificent  dress,  certainly,"  said 
the  clergyman,  nervously. 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment " 

"  No,  no,"  said  he,  hastily.     "  I  had  no  such  intention." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Susanna,  with  a  laugh.  "  It 
was  merely  an  unpremeditated  remark:  all  compliments 
are,  of  course.  I  know  all  about  that.  But  do  you  think 
it  a  proper  costume  ?  " 

"  In  what  sense,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Is  it  a  correct  Eastern  dress  ?  I  am  supposed  to  be 
one  of  the  wives  of  the  Caliph  Somebody  al  Something. 
You  have  no  idea  how  difficult  it  is  to  get  a  reliable 
model  for  a  dress  before  laying  out  a  heap  of  money  on 
it.  This  was  designed  in  Paris;  but  I  should  like  to 
hear  it  criticized — chronologically,  or  whatever  you  call 
it — by  a  scholar." 

"  I  really  do  not  know,  Madam.  I  am  not  an  Ori- 
entalist; and  my  studies  take  a  widely  different  direction 
from  yours." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Susanna,  with  a  sigh.  "  But 
I  assure  you  I  often  wish  for  your  advice,  particularly 
as  to  my  elocution,  which  is  very  faulty.  You  are  such 
a  master  of  the  art." 

The  clergyman  bowed  in  acceptance  of  the  compli- 
ment, and  began  to  take  heart;  for  to  receive  flattery 
from  ladies  in  exchange  for  severe  reproof  was  part 
of  his  daily  experience. 

"  I  have  come  here/*  he  said,  "  to  have  a  very  serious 
conversation  with  you." 

"All  right,  Doctor.     Fire  away." 

214 


The   Irrational   Knot 

This  sudden  whim  of  conferring  on  him  a  degree  in 
divinity,  and  her  change  of  manner — implying  that  she 
had  been  laughing  at  him  before — irritated  him.  "  I 
presume,"  he  said,  "  that  you  are  acquainted  with  the 
movements  of  your  brother." 

"  Of  Ned  ?  "  said  Susanna,  frowning  a  little.  "  No. 
What  should  I  know  about  him  ?  " 

"  He  is,  I  believe,  about  to  be  married." 

"  No !  "  screamed  Susanna,  throwing  herself  back,  and 
making  her  bangles  and  ornaments  clatter.  "  Get  out, 
Doctor.  You  dont  mean  it." 

"  Certainly  I  mean  it.  It  is  not  my  profession  to  jest. 
I  must  also  tell  you  that  his  marriage  will  make  it  quite 
impossible  for  you  to  continue  here  with  my  cousin." 

"  Why  ?     Who  is  he  going  to  marry  ?  " 

"Ahem!  He  has  succeeded  in  engaging  the  affections 
of  my  sister." 

"  What !     Your  sister  ?     Marian  Lind  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Susanna  uttered  a  long  whistle,  and  then,  with  a  con- 
viction and  simplicity  which  prevented  even  the  Rev. 
George  from  being  shocked,  said :  "  Well,  I  am  damned ! 
I  know  more  than  one  fool  of  a  girl  who  will  be  sick 
and  sorry  to  hear  it."  She  paused,  and  added  carelessly : 
"  I  suppose  all  your  people  are  delighted  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  why  you  should  suppose  so.  We  have 
had  no  hand  in  the  matter.  My  sister  has  followed  her 
own  inclinations." 

"  Indeed !  Let  me  tell  you,  young  man,  that  your 
sister  might  have  gone  farther  and  fared  worse." 

"  Doubtless.  However,  you  will  see  now  how  impos- 
sible it  is  that  you  should  remain  in  your  present — that 
you  should  continue  here,  in  fact." 

215 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  You  cannot,"  said  the  clergyman,  accustomed  to  be 
bold  and  stern  with  female  sinners,  "  when  you  are  sister- 
in-law  to  Miss  Lind,  live  as  you  are  now  doing  with  her 
cousin." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because  it  would  be  a  scandal.  I  will  say  nothing 
at  present  of  the  sin  of  it:  you  will  have  to  account  for 
that  before  a  greater  than  I." 

"Just  so,  Doctor.  You  dont  mind  the  sin;  but  when 
it  comes  to  a  scandal !  " 

"  I  did  not  say  so.  I  abhor  the  sin.  I  have  prayed 
earnestly  for  your  awakening,  and  shall  do  so  in  spite 
of  the  unregenerate  hardness  of  heart " 

"  Hallo,  Doctor !  draw  it  mild,  if  you  please.  I  am  not 
one  of  your  parishioners,  you  know.  Perhaps  that  is  the 
reason  your  prayers  for  me  have  not  met  with  much 
attention.  Let  us  stick  to  business:  you  may  talk  shop 
as  much  as  you  please  afterwards.  What  do  you  want  me 
to  do?" 

"  To  sever  your  connexion  with  Marmaduke  at  once. 
Believe  me,  it  will  not  prove  so  hard  a  step  as  it  may 
seem.  You  have  but  to  ask  for  strength  to  do  it,  and 
you  will  find  yourself  strong.  It  will  profit  you  even 
more  than  poor  Marmaduke." 

"Will  it?  I  dont  see  it,  Doctor.  You  think  it  will 
profit  you:  thats  plain  enough.  But  it  wont  profit  me; 
it  wont  profit  Bob ;  and  it  wont  by  any  means  profit  the 
child." 

"  Not  immediately,  perhaps,  in  a  worldly  sense " 

"  That  is  the  sense  I  mean.  Drop  all  that  other  stuff : 
I  dont  believe  in  you  parsons:  you  are  about  the  worst  lot 
going,  as  far  as  I  can  see.  Just  tell  me  this,  Doctor. 

216 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Your  sister  is  a  very  nice  girl,  I  have  no  doubt :  she 
would  hardly  have  snapped  up  Ned  if  she  wasnt.  But 
why  is  she  to  have  everything  her  own  way  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand." 

"  Well,  listen.  Here  is  a  young  woman  who  has  had 
every  chance  in  life  that  luck  could  give  her :  silk  cradles, 
gold  rattles,  rank,  wealth,  schooling,  travelling,  swell 
acquaintances,  and  anything  else  she  chose  to  ask  for. 
Even  when  she  is  fool  enough  to  want  to  get  married, 
her  luck  sticks  to  her,  and  she  catches  Ned,  who  is  a 
man  in  a  thousand — though  Lord  forbid  we  should  have 
many  of  his  sort  about!  Yet  she's  not  satisfied.  She 
wants  me  to  give  up  my  establishment  just  to  keep  her 
family  in  countenance." 

"  She  knows  nothing  of  my  visit,  I  assure  you." 

"  Even  if  she  doesnt,  it  makes  no  odds  as  to  the  facts. 
She  can  go  her  own  way;  and  I  will  go  mine.  I  shant 
want  to  visit  her;  and  I  dont  suppose  she  will  visit  me. 
So  she  need  trouble  herself  no  more  than  if  there  was 
no  such  person  as  I  in  the  world." 

"  But  you  will  find  that  it  will  be  greatly  to  your  ad- 
vantage to  leave  this  house.  It  is  not  our  intention  that 
you  shall  suffer  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view  by  doing  so. 
My  father  is  rich " 

"  What  is  that  to  me  ?  He  doesnt  want  me  to  go  and 
live  with  him,  does  he  ?  " 

"  You  quite  misunderstand  me.  No  such  idea  ever 
entered -" 

"  There !  go  on.  I  only  said  that  to  get  a  rise  out  of 
you,  Doctor.  How  do  you  make  out  that  I  should  gain 
by  leaving  this  house  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  willing  to  make  you  some  amends  for 

217 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  withdrawal  of  such  portion  of  Marmaduke's  income 
as  you  may  forfeit  by  ceasing  your  connexion  with  him." 

"  You  have  come  to  buy  me  out,  in  fact :  is  that  it  ? 
What  a  clever  old  man  your  father  must  be!  Knows 
the  world  thoroughly,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  hope  I  ha,ve  not  offended  you  ?  " 

"Bless  you,  Doctor!  nobody  could  be  offended  with 
you.  Suppose  I  agree  to  oblige  you  (you  have  a  very 
seductive  High  Church  way  about  you)  who  is  to  make 
Marmaduke  amends  for  such  portion  of  my  income  as 
our  separation  will  deprive  him  of?  Eh?  I  see  that 
that  staggers  you  a  little.  If  you  will  just  tot  up  the 
rent  of  this  house  since  we  have  had  it ;  the  price  of  the 
furniture ;  our  expenses,  including  my  carriage  and  Mar- 
maduke's horse  and  the  boat ;  six  hundred  pounds  of  debt 
that  he  ran  up  before  he  settled  down  with  me ;  and  other 
little  things ;  and  then  find  out  from  his  father  how  much 
money  he  has  drawn  within  the  last  two  years,  I  think 
you  will  find  it  rather  hard  to  make  the  two  balance. 
Your  uncle  is  far  too  good  a  man  to  give  Marmaduke 
money  to  spend  on  me ;  but  he  was  not  too  good  to  keep 
me  playing  in  the  provinces  all  through  last  autumn  just 
to  make  both  ends  meet,  when  I  ought  to  have  been 
taking  my  holiday.  I  wish  you  would  tell  his  mother, 
your  blessed  pious  Aunt  Dora,  to  send  Bob  the  set  of 
diamonds  his  grandmother  left  him,  instead  of  sermons 
which  he  never  reads." 

"  I  thought  Marmaduke  had  nearly  a  thousand  a  year, 
independently  of  his  father." 

"A  thousand  a  year !  What  is  that  ?  And  your  uncle 
would  stop  even  that,  if  he  could,  to  keep  it  out  of  my 
hands.  You  may  tell  him  that  if  it  didnt  come  into  my 
hands  it  would  hardly  last  a  week.  Only  for  the  child, 

218 


The   Irrational   Knot 

and  the  garden,  and  the  sort  of  quiet  life  he  leads  here, 
he  would  spend  a  thousand  a  month.  And  look  at  my 
expenses !  Look  at  my  dresses !  I  suppose  you  think 
that  people  wear  cotton  velvet  and  glazed  calico  on  the 
stage,  as  Mrs.  Siddons  did  in  the  old  days  when  they 
acted  by  candlelight.  Why,  between  dress  and  jewellery, 
I  have  about  two  hundred  pounds  on  my  back  at  the 
present  moment ;  and  you  neednt  think  that  any  manager 
alive  will  find  dresses  to  that  tune.  At  the  theatre  they 
think  me  overpaid  at  fifty  pounds  a  week,  although  they 
might  shut  up  the  house  to-morrow  if  my  name  was 
taken  out  of  the  bills.  Tell  your  father  that  so  far  from 
my  living  on  Bob,  it  is  as  much  as  I  can  do  to  keep  this 
place  going  by  my  work — not  to  mention  the  worry  of 
it,  which  always  falls  on  the  woman." 

"  I  certainly  had  no  idea  of  the  case  being  as  you  de- 
scribe," said  the  clergyman,  losing  his  former  assurance. 
"  But  would  it  not  then  be  better  for  you  to  separate  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  I  want  my  house  and  home.  So  does 
he.  If  an  income  is  rather  tight,  halving  it  is  a  very 
good  way  to  make  it  tighter.  No:  if  I  left  Bob,  he 
would  go  to  the  devil;  and  very  likely  I  should  go  to  the 
devil,  too,  and  disgrace  you  in  earnest." 

"  But,  my  dear  madam,  consider  the  disgrace  at  pres- 
ent!" 

"  What  disgrace  ?  When  your  sister  becomes  Mrs. 
Ned,  what  will  be  the  difference  between  her  position 
and  mine?  Dont  look  aghast.  What  will  be  the  differ- 
ence?" 

"  Surely  you  do  not  suppose  that  she  will  dispense 
with  the  sacrament  of  marriage  before  casting  in  her 
lot  with  your  brother!" 

"  I  bet  you  my  next  week's  salary  that  you  dont  get  Ned 

219 


The   Irrational   Knot 

to  enter  a  church.  He  will  be  tied  up  by  a  registrar.  Of 
course,  your  sister  will  have  the  law  of  him  somehow :  she 
cant  help  herself.  She  is  not  independent;  and  so  she 
must  be  guaranteed  against  his  leaving  her  without  bread 
and  butter.  /  can  support  myself,  and  may  shew  Bob 
a  clean  pair  of  heels  to-morrow,  if  I  choose.  Even  if 
she  has  money  of  her  own,  she  darent  stick  to  her  free- 
dom for  fear  of  society.  /  snap  my  fingers  at  society, 
and  care  as  little  about  it  as  it  cares  about  me;  and  I 
have  no  doubt  she  would  be  glad  to  do  the  same  if  she 
had  the  pluck.  I  confess  I  shouldnt  like  to  make  a 
regular  legal  bargain  of  going  to  live  with  a  man.  I  dont 
care  to  make  love  a  matter  of  money ;  it  gives  it  a  taste 
of  the  harem,  or  even  worse.  Poor  Bob,  meaning  to  be 
honorable,  offered  to  buy  me  in  the  regular  way  at  St. 
George's,  Hanover  Square,  before  we  came  to  live  here; 
but,  of  course,  I  refused,  as  any  decent  woman  in  my 
circumstances  would.  Understand  me  now,  Doctor:  I 
dont  want  to  give  myself  any  virtuous  airs,  or  to  boast 
of  behaving  better  than  your  sister.  I  know  the  world ; 
and  I  know  that  she  will  marry  Ned  just  as  much  because 
she  thinks  it  right  as  because  she  cant  help  herself.  But 
dont  you  try  to  make  me  swallow  any  gammon  about 
my  disgracing  you  and  so  forth.  I  intend  to  stay  as  I 
am.  I  can  respect  myself;  and  I  dont  care  whether  you 
or  your  family  respect  me  or  not.  If  you  dont  approve 
of  me,  why!  nobody  asks  you  to  associate  with  me.  If 
you  want  society,  you  have  your  own  lot  to  mix  with.  If 
I  want  it,  I  can  fill  this  house  to-morrow.  Not  with 
stupid  fine  ladies,  but  with  really  clever  people,  who  are 
not  at  all  shy  of  me.  Look  at  me  at  the  present  moment ! 
I  am  receiving  a  morning  visit  from  the  best  born  and 
most  popular  parson  in  Belgravia.  I  wonder,  Doctor, 

220 


The   Irrational   Knot 

what  your  parishioners  would  think  if  they  could  see 
you  now." 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all. 
You  seem  to  see  everything  reversed — upside  down. 
You — I — you  bewilder  me,  Miss  Conol — " 

"  Sh !  Mademoiselle  Lalage  Virtue,  if  you  please.  Or 
you  may  call  me  Susanna,  if  you  like,  since  we  are  as 
good  as  related." 

"  I  fear,"  said  the  clergyman,  blushing,  "  that  we  have 
no  common  ground  on  which  to  argue.  I  am  sorry  I 
have  no  power  to  influence  you." 

"  Oh,  dont  say  that.  I  really  like  you,  Doctor,  and 
would  do  more  for  you  than  most  people.  If  your  father 
had  had  the  cheek  to  come  himself  to  offer  me  money, 
and  so  forth,  I  would  have  put  him  out  of  the  house 
double  quick;  whereas  I  have  listened  to  you  like  a  lamb. 
Never  mind  your  hat  yet.  Have  a  bottle  of  champagne 
with  me  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  no." 

"  Dont  you  drink  at  all  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  You  should.  It  would  give  a  fillip  to  your  sermons. 
Let  me  send  you  a  case  of  champagne.  Promise  to 
drink  a  bottle  every  Sunday  in  the  vestry  before  you 
come  out  to  preach,  and  I  will  take  a  pew  for  the  season 
in  your  church.  Thats  good  of  me,  isnt  it  ?  " 

"  I  must  go,"  said  the  Rev.  George,  rising,  after  hastily 
pretending  to  look  at  his  watch.  "  Will  you  excuse  me  ?  " 

"  Nonsense,"  she  said,  rising  also,  and  slipping  her 
hand  through  his  arm  to  detain  him.  "  Wait  and  have 
some  luncheon.  Why,  Doctor,  I  really  think  youre 
afraid  of  me.  Do  stay." 

"  Impossible.      I    have    much    business    which    I    am 

221 


The   Irrational   Knot 

bound Pray,  let  me  go,"  pleaded  the  clergyman, 

piteously,  ineffectually  struggling  with  Susanna,  who 
had  now  got  his  arm  against  her  breast.  "  You  must 
be  mad !  "  he  cried,  drops  of  sweat  breaking  out  on  his 
brow  as  he  felt  himself  being  pulled  helplessly  toward  the 
ottoman.  She  got  her  knee  on  it  at  last;  and  he  made 
a  desperate  effort  to  free  himself. 

"  Oh,  how  rough  you  are ! "  she  exclaimed  in  her 
softest  voice,  adroitly  tumbling  into  the  seat  as  if  he 
had  thrown  her  down,  and  clinging  to  his  arms;  so  that 
it  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  keep  his  feet  as  he 
stooped  over  her,  striving  to  get  upright.  At  which 
supreme  moment  the  door  was  opened  by  Marmaduke, 
who  halted  on  the  threshold  to  survey  the  two  reproach- 
fully for  a  moment.  Then  he  said: 

"  George:  I'm  astonished  at  you.  I  have  not  much 
opinion  of  parsons  as  a  rule;  but  I  really  did  think  that 
you  were  to  be  depended  on." 

"  Marmaduke,"  said  the  clergyman,  colouring  furi- 
ously, and  almost  beside  himself  with  shame  and  anger: 
"  you  know  perfectly  well  that  I  am  actuated  in  coming 
here  by  no  motive  unworthy  of  my  profession.  You 
misunderstand  what  you  have  seen.  I  will  not  hear  my 
calling  made  a  jest  of." 

"  Quite  right,  Doctor,"  said  Susanna,  giving  him  a 
gentle  pat  of  encouragement  on  the  shoulder.  "  Defend 
the  cloth,  always.  I  was  only  asking  him  to  stay  to 
lunch,  Bob.  Cant  you  persuade  him?" 

"  Do,  old  fellow,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  Come !  you 
must:  I  havnt  had  a  chat  with  you  for  ever  so  long. 
I'm  really  awfully  sorry  I  interrupted  you.  What  on 
earth  did  you  make  Susanna  rig  herself  out  like  that 
for?" 

222 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Bob.  Mr.  George  has  nothing  to 
do  with  my  being  in  character.  This  is  what  came  last 
night  in  the  box:  I  could  not  resist  trying  it  on  this 
morning.  I  am  Zobeida,  the  light  of  the  harem,  if  you 
please.  I  must  have  your  opinion  of  the  rouge  song, 
Doctor.  Observe.  This  is  a  powder  puff:  I  suppose 
you  never  saw  such  a  thing  before.  I  am  making  up  my 
face  for  a  visit  of  the  Sultan;  and  I  am  apologizing  to 
the  audience  for  using  cosmetics.  The  original  French 
is  improper;  so  I  will  give  you  the  English  version,  by 
the  celebrated  Robinson,  the  cleverest  adapter  of  the  day : 

'  Poor  odalisques  in  captive  thrall 
Must  never  let  their  charms  pall : 
If  they  get  the  sack 
They  ne'er  come  back ; 
For  the  Bosphorus  is  the  boss  for  all 

In  this  harem,  harem,  harem,  harem,  harum 
scarum  place/ 

Intellectual,  isnt  it?" 

Susanna,  whilst  singing,  executed  a  fantastic  slow 
dance,  stopping  at  certain  points  to  clink  a  pair  of  little 
cymbals  attached  to  her  ankles,  and  to  look  for  a  moment 
archly  at  the  clergyman. 

"  No,"  he  said,  hurt  and  offended  into  a  sincerity  of 
manner  which  compelled  them  to  respect  him  for  the 
first  time,  "  I  will  not  stay;  and  I  am  very  sorry  I  came." 
And  he  left  the  room,  his  cheeks  tingling.  Marmaduke 
followed  him  to  the  gate.  "  Come  and  look  us  up  soon 
again,  old  fellow,"  he  said. 

"  Marmaduke,"  said  the  clergyman:  "  you  are  travel- 
ling as  fast  as  you  can  along  the  road  to  Hell." 

223 


The   Irrational   Knot 

As  he  hurried  away,  Marmaduke  leaned  against  the 
gate  and  made  the  villas  opposite  echo  his  laughter. 

"  On  my  soul,  it's  a  shame,"  said  he,  when  he  returned 
to  the  house.  "  Poor  old  George !  " 

"  He  found  no  worse  than  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  find,"  said  Susanna.  "  What  right  has  he  to  come 
into  my  house  and  take  it  for  granted,  to  my  face,  that 
I  am  a  disgrace  to  his  sister?  One  would  think  I  was 
a  common  woman  from  the  streets." 

"  Pshaw  !  What  does  he  know  ?  He  is  only  a  molly- 
coddling parson,  poor  fellow.  He  will  give  them  a  rare 
account  of  you  when  he  goes  back." 

"  Let  him,"  said  Susanna.  "  He  can  tell  them  how 
little  I  care  for  their  opinion,  anyhow." 

The  Rev.  George  took  the  next  train  to  the  City,  and 
went  to  the  offices  of  the  Electro-Motor  Company,  where 
he  found  his  father.  They  retired  together  to  the  board- 
room, which  was  unoccupied  just  then. 

"  I  have  been  to  that  woman,"  said  the  clergyman. 

"  Well,  what  does  she  say  ?  " 

"  She  is  an  entirely  abandoned  person.  She  glories 
in  her  shame.  I  have  never  before  met  with  such  an 
example  of  complete  and  unconscious  depravity.  Yet 
she  is  not  unattractive.  There  is  a  wonderfully  clever 
refinement  even  in  her  coarseness  which  goes  far  to 
account  for  her  influence  over  Marmaduke." 

"  No  doubt ;  but  apart  from  her  personal  charms,  about 
which  I  am  not  curious,  is  she  willing  to  assist  us  ?  " 

"  No.     I  could  make  no  impression  on  her  at  all." 

"  Well,  it  cannot  be  helped.  Did  you  say  anything 
about  Conolly's  selling  his  interest  here  and  leaving  the 
country  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  clergyman,  struck  with  a  sense  of  re- 

224 


The  Irrational  Knot 

missness.  "  I  forgot  that.  The  fact  is,  I  hardly  had 
the  oppor " 

"  Never  mind.  It  is  just  as  well  that  you  did  not :  it 
might  have  made  mischief." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  of  the  least  use  to  pursue  her  with 
any  further  overtures.  Besides,  I  really  could  not  un- 
dertake to  conduct  them." 

"  May  I  ask,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  turning  on  him  suddenly, 
"  what  objection  you  have  to  Marian's  wishes  being  con- 
sulted in  this  matter  ?  " 

The  Rev.  George  recoiled,  speechless. 

"  I  certainly  think,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  more  smoothly, 
"  that  Marian  might  have  trusted  to  my  indulgence  in- 
stead of  hurrying  away  to  a  lodging  and  writing  the 
news  in  all  directions.  But  I  must  say  I  have  received 
some  very  nice  letters  about  it.  Jasper  is  quite  con- 
gratulatory. The  Court  Journal  has  a  paragraph  this 
week  alluding  to  it  with  quite  good  taste.  Conolly  is  a 
very  remarkable  man;  and,  as  the  Court  Journal  truly 
enough  remarks,  he  has  won  a  high  place  in  the  repub- 
lic of  art  and  science.  As  a  Liberal,  I  cannot  say  that 
I  disapprove  of  Marian's  choice;  and  I  really  think  that 
it  will  be  looked  on  in  society  as  an  interesting  one." 

Mr.  Lind's  son  eyed  him  dubiously  for  quite  a  long 
time.  Then  he  said,  slowly,  "Am  I  to  understand  that 
I  may  now  speak  of  the  marriage  as  a  recognized  thing  ?  " 

"Why  not,  pray?" 

"  Of  course,  since  you  wish  it,  and  it  cannot  be 
helped — "  The  clergyman  again  looked  at  his  father, 
still  more  dubiously.  He  saw  in  his  eye  that  there  would 
be  a  quarrel  if  the  interview  lasted  much  longer.  So 
he  said  "  I  must  go  home  now.  I  have  to  write  my  ser- 
mon for  next  Sunday." 

225 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Very  good.  Do  not  let  me  detain  you.  Good-bye." 
The  Rev.  George  returned  to  his  rooms  quite  dazed 
by  the  novelty  of  his  sensations.  He  had  always  re- 
spected his  father  beyond  other  men;  and  now  he  knew 
that  his  father  did  not  deserve  his  respect  in  the  least. 
That  was  one  conviction  uprooted.  And  Susanna  had 
done  something  to  him — he  did  not  exactly  know  what; 
but  he  felt  altogether  a  different  man  from  the  clergy- 
man of  the  day  before.  He  had  come  face  to  face  with 
what  he  called  Vice  for  the  first  time,  and  found  it  not 
at  all  what  he  had  supposed  it  to  be.  He  had  believed 
that  he  knew  it  to  be  most  dangerously  attractive  to  the 
physical,  but  utterly  repugnant  to  the  moral  sense ;  and 
such  fascination  he  was  prepared  to  resist  to  the  utmost. 
But  he  was  attacked  in  just  the  opposite  way,  and  thereby 
so  thrown  off  his  guard  that  he  did  not  know  he  was 
attacked  at  all ;  so  that  he  told  himself  vaingloriously 
that  the  shafts  of  the  enemy  had  fallen  harmlessly  from 
his  breastplate  of  faith.  For  he  was  not  in  the  least 
charmed  by  Susanna's  person.  He  had  detected  the 
paint  on  her  cheeks,  and  had  noted  with  aversion  a 
certain  unhealthy  bloat  in  her  face,  and  an  alcoholic  taint 
in  her  breath.  He  exulted  in  the  consciousness  that  he 
had  been  genuinely  disgusted,  not  as  a  matter  of  duty, 
but  unaffectedly,  as  a  matter  of  simple  nature.  What 
interested  him  in  her  was  her  novel  and  bold  moral 
attitude,  her  self-respect  in  the  midst  of  her  sin,  her 
striking  arguments  in  favor  of  an  apparently  indefensible 
course  of  life.  Hers  was  no  common  case  of  loose  liv- 
ing, he  felt :  there  was  a  soul  to  be  saved  there,  if 
only  Heaven  would  raise  her  up  a  friend  in  some  man 
absolutely  proof  against  the  vulgar  fascination  of  her 
prettiness.  He  began  to  imagine  a  certain  greatness 

226 


The   Irrational   Knot 

of  character  ab6ut  her,  a  capacity  for  heroic  repentance 
as  well  as  for  heroic  sin.  Before  long  he  was  amusing 
himself  by  thinking  how  it  might  have  gone  with  her 
if  she  had  him  for  her  counsellor  instead  of  a  gross  and 
thoughtless  rake  like  Marmaduke. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  the  wild  goose  chase 
which  the  Rev.  George's  imagination  ran  from  this 
starting-point  to  the  moment  when  he  was  suddenly 
awakened,  by  an  unmistakable  symptom,  to  the  fact 
that  he  was  being  outwitted  and  beglamoured,  like  the 
utter  novice  he  was,  by  a  power  which  he  believed  to 
be  the  devil.  He  rushed  to  the  little  oratory  he  had 
arranged  with  a  screen  in  the  corner  of  his  sitting-room, 
and  prayed  aloud,  long  and  earnestly.  But  the  hypno- 
tizing process  did  not  tranquilize  him  as  usual.  It  ex- 
cited him,  and  led  him  finally  to  a  passionate  appeal  for 
pardon  and  intercession  to  a  statuet  of  the  Virgin 
Mother,  of  whom  he  was  a  very  devout  adorer.  He 
had  always  regarded  himself  as  her  especial  champion 
in  the  Church  of  England;  and  now  he  had  been  faith- 
less to  her,  and  indelicate  into  the  bargain.  And  yet, 
in  spite  of  his  contrition,  he  felt  that  he  was  having  a 
tremendous  spiritual  experience,  which  he  would  not  for 
worlds  have  missed.  The  climax  of  it  was  the  compo- 
sition of  his  Sunday  sermon,  the  labor  of  which  secured 
him  a  sound  sleep  that  night.  It  was  duly  delivered  on 
the  following  Sunday  morning  in  this  form: 

"  Dearly  beloved  Brethren :  In  the  twenty-third  verse 
of  the  third  chapter  of  St.  Mark's  gospel,  we  find  this 
question:  'How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan?'  How  can 
Satan  cast  out  Satan?  If  you  will  read  what  follows, 
you  will  perceive  that  that  question  was  not  answered. 
My  brethren,  it  is  unanswerable:  it  never  has  been,  and 
it  never  can  be  answered. 

227 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  In  these  latter  days,  when  the  power  of  Satan  has 
become  so  vast,  when  his  empire  and  throne  tower  in 
our  midst  so  that  the  faithful  are  cast  down  by  the  ex- 
ceeding great  shadow  thereof,  and  when  temples  innu- 
merable are  open  for  his  worship,  it  is  no  strange  thing 
that  many  faint-hearted  ones  should  give  half  their  hearts 
to  Beelzebub,  and  should  hope  by  the  prince  of  devils  to 
cast  out  devils.  Yes,  this  is  what  is  taking  place  daily 
around  us.  Oh,  you,  who  seek  to  excuse  this  book  to 
infidel  philosophers  by  shewing  with  how  much  facility 
a  glib  tongue  may  reconcile  it  with  their  so-called  science, 
I  tell  you  that  it  is  science  and  not  the  Bible  that  shall 
need  that  apology  in  the  great  day  of  wrath.  And,  there- 
fore, I  would  have  you,  my  brethren,  earnestly  dis- 
countenance all  endeavors  to  justify  the  Word  of  God 
by  explaining  it  in  conformity  with  the  imaginations  of 
the  men  of  science.  How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan? 
He  cannot;  but  he  can  lead  you  into  the  sin  of  adding 
to  and  of  taking  from  the  words  of  this  book.  He  can  add 
plagues  unto  you,  and  take  away  your  part  out  of  the 
holy  city. 

"  In  this  great  London  which  we  inhabit  we  are 
come  upon  evil  days.  The  rage  of  the  blasphemer,  the 
laugh  at  the  scoffer,  the  heartless  lip-service  of  the  world- 
ling, and  the  light  dalliance  of  the  daughters  of  music, 
are  offered  every  hour  upon  a  thousand  Baal-altars  with- 
in this  very  parish.  I  would  ask  some  of  you  who  spend 
your  evenings  in  the  playhouses  which  multiply  around 
us  like  weeds  sown  in  the  rank  soil  of  human  frailty, 
what  justification  you  make  to  yourselves  when  you  are 
alone  in  the  watches  of  the  night,  and  your  conscience 
saith,  '  What  went  ye  out  for  to  see? '  You  will  then 
complain  of  the  bitterness  of  life,  and  prate  of  the  re- 
fining influences  of  music ;  of  the  help  to  spiritual-mind- 
edness  given  by  the  exhibition  on  the  public  stage  of 
mockeries  of  God's  world,  wherein  some  pitiful  tempo- 
ral triumph  of  simulated  virtue  in  the  last  act  is  the 
apology  for  the  vicious  trifling  that  has  gone  before. 
And  in  whom  do  you  there  see  typified  that  virtue  which 

228 


The  Irrational   Knot 

you  should  shield  in  your  hearts  from  the  contamination 
of  the  theatre?  Is  it  not  in  some  woman  whose  private 
life  is  the  scandalous  matter  of  your  whispered  conver- 
sations, and  whose  shameless  face  smirks  at  you  from 
the  windows  of  those  picture-shops  which  are  a  disgrace 
to  our  national  morality?  Is  it  from  such  as  she  that 
you  will  learn  to  be  spiritual-minded?  Does  she  appear 
before  your  carnal  crowds  repentant,  her  forehead  cov- 
ered with  ashes,  her  limbs  covered  with  sackcloth  ?  No ! 
Her  brow  is  glowing  with  unquenchable  fire  to  kindle  the 
fuel  that  the  devil  has  hidden  in  your  hearts.  Her  raiment 
is  cloth  of  gold;  and  she  is  not  covered  with  it.  Naked 
and  unashamed,  she  smiles  and  weeps  in  mockery  of  the 
virtue  which  you  would  persuade  yourselves  that  she 
represents  to  you.  Will  you  learn  spiritual-mindedness 
from  the  sight  of  her  eyes,  from  the  sound  of  her  mouth, 
from  the  measure  of  her  steps,  or  from  the  music  and 
the  dancing  that  cease  not  within  the  doors  of  her  temple  ? 
How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan?  Whom  think  ye  to 
deceive  by  whitening  the  sepulchre?  Is  it  yourselves? 
The  devil  has  blinded  you  already.  Is  it  God?  Who 
shall  hide  anything  from  Him?  I  tell  you  that  he  who 
makes  the  pursuit  of  virtue  a  luxury,  and  takes  refuge 
from  sin,  not  before  the  altar,  but  in  the  playhouse,  is 
casting  out  devils  by  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the  devils. 
"  As  I  look  about  me  in  this  church,  I  see  many  things 
intended  to  give  pleasure  to  the  carnal  eye.  Were  the 
cost  of  all  these  dainty  robes,  this  delicate  headgear,  these 
clouds  of  silk,  of  satin,  of  lace,  and  of  sparkling  jewels, 
were  the  price  of  these  things  brought  into  the  Church's 
treasury,  how  loudly  might  the  Gospel  resound  in  lands 
between  whose  torrid  shores  and  the  tropical  sun  the 
holy  shade  of  Calvary  has  not  yet  fallen!  But,  you  will 
say,  it  is  a  good  thing  to  be  comely  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord.  The  sight  of  what  is  beautiful  elevates  the  mind. 
Uncleanness  is  a  vice.  This,  then,  is  how  you  will  war 
with  uncleanness.  Not  by  prayer  and  holy  living.  Not 
by  pouring  of  your  superfluity  into  the  lap  of  the  poor, 
and  entering  by  the  strait  gate  upon  the  narrow  path  in  a 
garment  without  seam.  No.  By  the  dead  and  damning 

229 


The   Irrational   Knot 

gold ;  by  the  purple  and  by  the  scarlet ;  by  the  brightness 
of  the  eyes  that  is  born  of  new  wine ;  by  the  mincing  gait 
and  the  gloved  fingers ;  and  by  the  musk  and  civet  instead 
of  the  myrrh  and  frankincense:  by  these  things  are  you 
fain  to  purge  your  uncleanness.  And  will  they  suffice? 
Can  Satan  cast  out  Satan  ?  Beware !  '  For  though  thou 
wash  thee  with  nitre  and  take  thee  much  soap,  yet  thine 
iniquity  is  marked  before  me,  saith  the  Lord  God.' 
There  shall  come  a  day  when  your  lace  and  feathers 
shall  hang  on  you  as  heavy  as  your  chains  of  gold,  to 
drag  you  down  to  him  in  whose  name  you  have  thought 
to  cast  out  devils.  Do  not  think  that  these  things  are 
harmless  vanities.  Nothing  can  fill  the  human  heart  and 
be  harmless.  If  your  thoughts  be  not  of  God,  they  will 
keep  your  minds  distraught  from  His  grace  as  effectually 
as  the  blackest  broodings  of  crime.  '  Can  a  maid  forget 
her  ornaments,  or  a  bride  her  attire?  Yet  my  people  have 
forgotten  me  days  without  number,  saith  the  Lord  God.' 
Yes,  your  minds  are  too  puny  to  entertain  the  full  wor- 
ship of  God:  do  you  think  they  are  spacious  enough  to 
harbor  the  worship  of  Baal  side  by  side  with  it?  Much 
less  dare  you  pretend  that  the  Baal  altar  is  erected  for 
the  honor  of  God,  that  you  may  come  into  His  presence 
comely  and  clean.  It  is  but  a  few  days  since  I  stood  in 
the  presence  of  a  woman  who  boasted  to  me  that  she 
bore  upon  her  the  value  of  two  hundred  pounds  of  our 
money.  I  cared  little  for  the  value  of  money  that  was 
upon  her.  But  what  shall  be  said  of  the  weight  of  sin 
her  attire  represented  ?  For,  those  costly  garments  were 
the  wages  of  sin — of  hardened,  shameless,  damnable  sin. 
Yet  there  is  not  before  me  a  finer  dress  or  a  fairer  face. 
Will  you,  my  sisters,  trust  to  the  comeliness  of  visage 
and  splendor  of  raiment  in  which  such  a  woman  as  this 
can  outshine  you?  Will  you  continue  to  cast  out  your 
devils  by  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  devils?  Be  advised 
whilst  there  is  yet  time.  Ask  youself  again  and  again, 
how  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan? 

"  When  sin  is  committed  in  a  great  city  for  wages, 
is  there  no  fault  on  the  side  of  those  who  pay  the 
wages?  There  is  more  than  fault:  there  is  crime.  I 

230 


The  Irrational   Knot 

trust  there  are  few  among  you  who  have  done  such 
crime.  But  I  know  full  well  that  it  may  be  said  of 
London  to-day  '  Thou  art  full  of  stirs,  a  joyous  city:  thy 
slain  men  are  not  slain  with  the  sword,  nor  dead  in  battle.' 
No.  Our  young  men  are  slain  by  the  poison  of  Beel- 
zebub, the  prince  of  the  devils.  Nor  is  the  crafty  old 
subterfuge  lacking  here.  There  are  lost  ones  in  this 
town  who  say,  '  It  is  by  our  means  that  virtue  is  pre- 
served to  the  rich :  it  is  we  who  appease  the  wicked  rage 
which  would  otherwise  wreck  society.'  There  are  men 
who  boast  that  they  have  brought  their  sins  only  to  the 
houses  of  shame,  and  that  they  have  respected  purity  in 
the  midst  of  their  foulness.  '  Such  things  must  be,'  they 
say :  '  let  us  alone,  lest  a  worse  thing  ensue.'  '  When 
they  are  filled  full  with  sin,  they  cry  '  Lo !  our  appetite 
has  gone  from  us  and  we  are  clean.'  They  are  willing 
to  slake  lust  with  satiety,  but  not  to  combat  it  with 
prayer.  They  tread  one  woman  into  the  mire,  and  ex- 
cuse themselves  because  the  garment  of  her  sister  is 
spotless.  How  vain  is  this  lying  homage  to  virtue! 
How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan? 

"  Oh,  my  brethren,  this  hypocrisy  is  the  curse  and 
danger  of  our  age.  The  Atheist,  no  longer  an  execra- 
tion, an  astonishment,  a  curse,  and  a  reproach,  poses 
now  as  the  friend  of  man  and  the  champion  of  right. 
Those  who  incur  the  last  and  most  terrible  curse  in 
this  book,  do  so  in  the  name  of  that  truth  for  which 
they  profess  to  be  seeking.  Art,  profanely  veiling  its 
voluptuous  nakedness  with  the  attributes  of  religion,  dis- 
guises folly  so  subtly  that  it  seems  like  virtue  in  the 
slothful  eyes  of  those  who  neglect  continually  to  watch 
and  pray.  The  vain  woman  puts  on  her  ornaments  to 
do  honor  to  her  Creator's  handiwork:  the  lustful  man 
casts  away  his  soul  that  society  may  be  kept  clean: 
there  is  not  left  in  these  latter  days  a  sin  that  does  not 
pretend  to  work  the  world's  salvation,  nor  a  man  who 
flatters  not  himself  that  the  sin  of  one  may  be  the  purg- 
ing of  many.  To  such  I  say,  Look  to  your  own  soul:  of 
no  other  shall  any  account  be  demanded  of  you.  A  day 
shall  come  in  which  a  fire  shall  be  kindled  among  your 


The   Irrational   Knot 

gods.  The  Lord  shall  array  Himself  with  this  land  as 
a  shepherd  putteth  on  his  garment.  Be  sure  that  then 
if  ye  shall  say  '  I  am  a  devil;  but  I  have  cast  out  many 
devils/  He  will  reply  unto  you,  How  can  Satan  cast  out 
Satan?  Who  shall  prompt  you  to  an  answer  to  that 
question?  Nay,  though  in  His  boundless  mercy  He  give 
you  a  thousand  years  to  search,  and  spread  before  you 
all  the  books  of  science  and  sociology  in  which  you  were 
wont  to  find  excuses  for  sin,  what  will  it  avail  you? 
Will  a  scoff,  or  a  quibble  over  a  doubtful  passage,  serve 
your  turn?  No.  You  cannot  scoff  whilst  your  tongue 
cleaves  to  the  roof  of  your  mouth  for  fear,  and  there 
will  be  no  passage  doubtful  in  all  the  Scriptures  on  that 
day ;  for  the  light  of  the  Lord's  countenance  will  be  over 
all  things." 


232 


BOOK  III 


CHAPTER   XII 

ONE  Sunday  afternoon,  as  the  sun  was  making 
rainbows  in  the  cloud  of  spray  thrown  from 
the  fountain  in  Kew  Gardens,  Sholto  Douglas 
appeared  there  amongst  the  promenaders  on  the  banks 
of  the  pond.  He  halted  on  the  steps  leading  down  to 
the  basin,  gazing  idly  at  the  waterfowl  paddling  at  his 
feet.  A  lady  in  a  becoming  grey  dress  came  to  the  top 
of  the  steps,  and  looked  curiously  at  him.  Somehow 
aware  of  this,  he  turned  indifferently,  as  if  to  leave,  and 
found  that  the  lady  was  Marian.  Her  ripened  beauty, 
her  perfect  self-possession,  a  gain  in  her  as  of  added 
strength  and  wisdom,  and  a  loss  in  her  as  of  gentleness 
outgrown  and  timidity  overcome,  dazzled  him  for  a  mo- 
ment— caused  a  revulsion  in  him  which  he  half  recog- 
nized as  the  beginning  of  a  dangerous  passion.  His 
former  love  for  her  suddenly  appeared  boyish  and  unreal 
to  him;  and  this  ruin  of  a  once  cherished  illusion  cost 
him  a  pang.  Meanwhile,  there  she  was,  holding  out  her 
hand  and  smiling  with  a  cool  confidence  in  the  success 
of  her  advance  that  would  have  been  impossible  to  Ma- 
rian Lind. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Thank  you :  I  am  fairly  well.  You  are  quite  well, 
I  hope?" 

"  I  am  in  rude  health.     I  hardly  knew  you  at  first." 

"Am  I  altered?" 

"  You  are  growing  stout." 

235 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Indeed  ?  Time  has  not  been  so  bounteous  to  me  as 
to  you." 

"  You  mean  that  I  am  stouter  than  you  ? "  She 
laughed;  and  the  sound  startled  him.  He  got  from  it 
an  odd  impression  that  her  soul  was  gone.  But  he 
hastened  to  protest. 

"  No,  no.  You  know  I  do  not.  I  meant  that  you 
have  achieved  the  impossible — altered  for  the  better." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  I  cling  to  my  good  looks 
desperately  now  that  I  am  growing  matronly.  How  is 
Mrs.  Douglas  ?  " 

"  She  is  quite  well,  thank  you.  Mr.  Conolly  is,  I 
trust—" 

"  He  is  suffering  from  Eucalyptus  on  the  brain  at 
present.  Do  not  trouble  yourself  to  maintain  that  ad- 
mirable expression  of  shocked  sadness.  Eucalyptus 
means  gum-tree;  and  Ned  is  at  present  studying  the 
species  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood.  He  came  here 
with  that  object:  he  never  goes  anywhere  without  an 
object.  He  wants  to  plant  Eucalyptuses  round  some 
new  works  where  the  people  suffer  from  ague." 

"  Oh !    You  mean  that  he  is  here  in  the  gardens." 

"  Yes.  I  left  him  among  the  trees,  as  I  prefer  the 
flowers.  I  want  to  see  the  lilies.  There  used  to  be 
some  in  a  hot-house,  or  rather  a  hot  bath,  near  this." 

"  That  is  it  on  our  right.  May  I  go  through  it  with 
you?" 

"  Just  as  you  please." 

"  Thank  you.  It  is  a  long  time  since  we  last  met, 
is  it  not?" 

"  More  than  a  year.  Fifteen  months.  I  have  not- 
seen  you  since  I  was  married." 

Douglas  looked  rather  foolish  at  this.    He  was  fatter, 

236 


The   Irrational   Knot 

lazier,  altogether  less  tenacious  of  his  dignity  than  of 
old;  and  his  embarrassment  brought  out  the  change 
strikingly.  Marian  liked  him  all  the  better  for  it;  he 
was  less  imposing;  but  he  was  more  a  man  and  less  a 
mere  mask.  At  last,  reddening  a  little,  he  said,  "  I 
remember  our  last  meeting  very  well.  We  were  very 
angry  then:  I  was  infuriated.  In  fact,  when  I  recog- 
nized you  a  minute  ago,  I  was  not  quite  sure  that  you 
would  renew  our  acquaintance." 

"  I  had  exactly  the  same  doubt  about  you." 

"A  very  unnecessary  doubt.  Not  a  sincere  one,  I  am 
afraid.  You  know  too  well  that  your  least  beck  will 
bring  me  to  you  at  any  time." 

"  Dont  you  think  we  had  better  not  begin  that.  I 
generally  repeat  my  conversations  to  Ned.  Not  that 
he  will  mind,  if  you  dont." 

Douglas  now  felt  at  his  ease  and  in  his  element.  He 
was  clearly  welcome  to  philander.  Recovering  his 
poise  at  once,  he  began,  in  his  finest  voice,  "  You  need 
not  chide  me.  There  can  be  no  mistake  on  my  part 
now.  You  can  entangle  me  without  fear;  and  I  can 
love  without  hope.  Ned  is  an  unrepealed  statute  of 
Forbiddance.  Go  on,  Mrs.  Conolly.  Play  with  me:  it 
will  amuse  you.  And — spiritless  wretch  that  I  am! — it 
will  help  me  to  live  until  you  throw  me  away,  crushed 
again." 

"  You  seem  to  have  been  quite  comfortable  without 
me:  at  least  you  look  extremely  well.  I  suspect  you  are 
becoming  a  little  lazy  and  attached  to  your  dinner.  Your 
old  haughtiness  seems  to  have  faded  into  a  mere  habit. 
It  used  to  be  the  most  active  principle  in  you.  Are  you 
quite  sure  that  nobody  else  has  been  helping  you  to  live, 
as  you  call  it  ?  " 

237 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Helping  me  to  forget,  you  mean.  No,  not  one. 
Time  has  taught  me  the  way  to  vegetate;  and  so  I  no 
longer  need  to  live.  As  you  have  remarked,  I  have 
habits,  not  active  principles.  But  one  at  least  of  these 
principles  is  blossoming  again  even  as  I  speak.  If  I 
could  only  live  as  that  lily  lives  now !  " 

"In  a  warm  bath?" 

"  No.  Floating  on  the  surface  of  a  quiet  pool,  looking 
up  into  your  eyes,  with  no  memory  for  the  past,  no  an- 
ticipation of  the  future." 

"  Delightful !  especially  for  me.  I  think  we  had  better 
go  and  look  for  Ned." 

"  Were  I  in  his  place  I  would  not  be  absent  from  your 
side  now — or  ever." 

"  That  is  to  say,  if  you  were  in  his  place,  you  wouldnt 
be  in  his  place — among  the  gum  trees.  Perhaps  you 
would  be  right." 

"  He  is  the  only  man  I  have  ever  stooped  to  envy." 

"  You  have  reason  to,"  said  Marian,  suddenly  grave. 
"  I  envy  him  sometimes  myself.  What  would  you  give 
to  be  never  without  a  purpose,  never  with  a  regret,  to 
regard  life  as  a  succession  of  objects  each  to  be  ac- 
complished by  so  many  days'  work ;  to  take  your  pleasure 
in  trifling  lazily  with  the  consciousness  of  possessing  a 
strong  brain ;  to  study  love,  family  affection,  and  friend- 
ship as  a  doctor  studies  breathing  or  digestion;  to  look 
on  disinterestedness  as  either  weakness  or  hypocrisy, 
and  on  death  as  a  mere  transfer  of  your  social  function 
to  some  member  of  the  next  generation  ?  " 

"  I  could  achieve  all  that,  if  I  would,  at  the  cost  of 
my  soul.  I  would  not  for  worlds  be  such  a  man,  save 
on  one  condition." 

"To  wit?" 

238 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  That  only  as  such  could  I  win  the  woman  I  loved." 

"  Oh,  you  would  not  think  so  much  of  an  insignificant 
factor  like  love  if  you  were  Ned." 

"  May  I  ask,  do  you,  too,  think  of  love  as  '  an  insig- 
nificant factor '  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  am  not  a  sociologist.  Besides,  I  have 
never  been  in  love." 

"What!     You  have  never  been  in  love?" 

"  Not  the  real,  romantic,  burning,  suicidal  love  your 
sonnets  used  to  breathe." 

"  Then  you  do  not  know  what  love  is." 

"Do  you?" 

"  You  should  know  whether  I  do  or  not." 

"  Should  I  ?  Then  I  conclude  that  you  do  not.  You 
are  growing  stout.  Your  dress  is  not  in  the  least  neg- 
lected. I  am  certain  you  enjoy  life  thoroughly.  No, 
you  have  never  known  love  in  all  its  novelistic-poetic 
outrageousness.  That  respectable  old  passion  is  a  myth." 

"  You  look  for  signs  that  only  children  shew.  When 
an  oak  dies,  it  does  not  wither  and  fall  at  once  as  a 
sapling  does.  Perhaps  you  will  one  day  know  what  it 
is  to  love." 

"Perhaps  so." 

"  In  any  case,  you  will  be  able  to  boast  of  having  in- 
spired the  passion." 

"  I  hope  so — at  least,  I  mean  that  it  is  all  nonsense. 
Do  look  at  that  vegetable  lobster  of  a  thing,  that  cactus." 

"  In  order  to  set  off  its  ugliness  properly,  you  should 
see  yourself  against  the  background  of  palms,  with  that 
great  fan-like  leaf  for  a  halo,  and " 

"  Thank  you.  I  see  it  all  in  my  mind's  eye  by  your 
eloquent  description.  You  are  quite  right  in  supposing 
that  I  like  compliments;  but  I  am  particular  about  their 

239 


The   Irrational   Knot 

quality;  and  I  dont  need  to  be  told  I  am  pretty  in  com- 
parison with  a  hideous  cactus.  You  would  not  have 
condescended  to  make  such  a  speech  long  ago.  You 
are  changed." 

"  Not  toward  you,  on  my  honor." 

"  I  did  not  mean  that :  I  meant  toward  yourself." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  taken  even  that  slender  note  of 
me.  I  find  you  somewhat  changed,  too." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  I  shewed  it ;  but  it  is  true.  I 
feel  as  if  Marian  Lind  was  a  person  whom  I  knew  once, 
but  whom  I  should  hardly  know  again." 

"  The  change  in  me  has  not  produced  that  effect.  I 
feel  as  though  Marian  Lind  were  the  history  of  my  life." 

"  You  have  become  quite  a  master  of  the  art  of  saying 
pretty  things.  You  are  nearly  as  glib  at  it  as  Ned." 

"  We  have  the  same  incentive  to  admiration." 

"  The  same !  You  do  not  suppose  that  Ned  pays  me 
compliments.  He  never  did  such  a  thing  in  his  life. 
No:  I  first  discovered  his  talent  in  that  direction  at 
Palermo,  where  I  surprised  him  in  an  animated  dis- 
course with  the  dark-eyed  daughter  of  an  innkeeper 
there.  That  was  the  first  conversation  in  Italian  I  suc- 
ceeded in  following.  A  week  later  I  could  understand 
the  language  almost  as  well  as  he.  However,  dont  let 
us  waste  the  whole  afternoon  talking  stuff.  I  want  to 
ask  you  about  your  mother.  I  should  greatly  like  to 
call  upon  her;  but  she  has  never  made  me  any  sign 
since  my  marriage;  and  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  tells  me  that 
she  never  allows  my  name  to  be  mentioned  to  her.  I 
thought  she  was  fond  of  me." 

"  So  she  was.  But  she  has  never  forgiven  you  for 
making  me  suffer  as  you  did.  You  see  she  has  more 
spirit  than  I.  She  would  be  angered  if  she  saw  me 

240 


The  Irrational   Knot 

now  tamely  following  the  triumphal  chariot  of  my  fair 
tyrant." 

"  Seriously,  do  you  think,  if  I  made  a  raid  on  Man- 
chester Square  some  morning,  I  could  coax  back  her 
old  feeling  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  will  be  quite  safe  in  calling,  at  all  events. 
Tell  me  what  day  you  intend  to  venture.  I  know  my 
mother  will  not  oppose  me  if  I  shew  that  I  wish  you 
to  be  kindly  received." 

"  Most  disinterested  of  you.  Thank  you :  I  will  fail 
or  succeed  on  my  own  merits,  not  on  your  recommen- 
dation. You  must  not  say  a  word  to  her  about  me  or 
my  project." 

"  If  you  command  me  not  to " 

"  I  do  command  you." 

"  I  must  obey.  But  I  fear  that  the  more  submissive 
I  am,  the  more  imperious  you  will  become." 

"  Very  likely.  And  now  look  along  that  avenue  to 
the  left.  Do  you  see  a  man  in  a  brown  suit,  with  straw 
hat  to  match,  walking  towards  us  at  a  regular  pace,  and 
keeping  in  a  perfectly  straight  course?  He  looks  at 
everybody  he  passes  as  if  he  were  counting  them." 

"  He  is  looking  back  at  somebody  now,  as  if  he  had 
missed  the  number." 

"Just  so;  but  that  somebody  is  a  woman;  doubtless 
a  pretty  one,  probably  dark.  You  recognize  him,  I  see. 
There  is  a  frost  come  over  you  which  convinces  me  that 
you  are  preparing  to  receive  him  in  your  old  ungracious 
way.  I  warn  you  that  I  am  accustomed  to  see  Ned 
made  much  of.  He  has  caught  sight  of  us.". 

"And  has  just  remarked  that  there  is  a  man  talking 
to  his  wife." 

"  Quite  right.     See  his  speculative  air !     Now  he  no 

241 


The  Irrational   Knot 

longer  attends  to  us.  He  is  looking  at  the  passers-by  as 
before.  That  means  that  he  has  recognized  you,  and 
has  stowed  the  observation  compactly  away  in  his  brain, 
to  be  referred  to  when  he  comes  up  to  us." 

"  So  much  method  must  economize  his  intellect  very 
profitably.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Conolly?  It  is  some 
time  since  we  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting." 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Douglas.  We  have  been  away 
all  the  winter.  Are  you  staying  in  London  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  hope  you  will  spend  an  occasional  hour  with  us  at 
Holland  Park." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  Thank  you :  yes,  if  Mrs.  Con- 
olly will  permit  me." 

"  I  should  make  you  come  home  with  us  now,"  said 
Marian,  "  but  for  this  Sunday  being  a  special  occasion. 
Nelly  McQuinch  is  to  spend  the  evening  with  us ;  and  as 
I  have  not  seen  her  since  we  came  back,  I  must  have  her 
all  to  myself.  Come  next  Sunday,  if  you  care  to." 

"  Do,"  said  Conolly.  "  Half  past  three  is  our  Sun- 
day hour.  If  you  cannot  face  that,  we  are  usually  at 
home  afterwards  the  entire  evening.  Marian:  we  have 
exactly  fifteen  minutes  to  catch  our  train." 

"  Oh !  let  us  fly.  If  we  miss  it,  Nelly  will  be  kept 
waiting  half  an  hour." 

Then  they  parted,  Douglas  promising  to  come  to  them 
on  that  day  week. 

"  Dont  you  think  he  is  growing  very  fat  ?  "  said  she, 
as  they  walked  away. 

"  Yes.  He  is  beginning  to  take  the  world  easily.  He 
does  not  seem  to  be  making  much  of  his  life." 

"What  matter,  so  long  as  he  enjoys  it?" 

"  Pooh !    He  doesnt  know  what  enjoyment  means." 

242 


The   Irrational   Knot 

They  said  nothing  further  until  they  were  in  the 
train,  where  Marian  sat  looking  listlessly  through  the 
window,  whilst  Conolly,  opposite,  reclining  against  the 
cushions,  looked  thoughtfully  at  her. 

"  Ned,"  said  she,  suddenly. 

"  My  dear." 

"  Do  you  know  that  Sholto  is  more  infatuated  about 
me  than  ever  ?  " 

"  Naturally.  You  are  lovelier  than  when  he  last  saw 
you." 

"  You  are  nearly  as  complimentary  as  he,"  said  Marian, 
blushing  with  a  gratification  which  she  was  very  unwil- 
ling to  betray.  "  He  noticed  it  sooner  than  you.  I  dis- 
covered it  myself  in  the  glass  before  either  of  you." 

"  No  doubt  you  did.     What  station  is  this?  " 

"  I  dont  know."  Then,  raising  her  voice  so  as  to  be 
overheard,  she  exclaimed  "  Here  is  a  stupid  man  coming 
into  our  carriage." 

A  young  man  entered  the  compartment,  and,  after  one 
glance  at  Marian,  who  turned  her  back  on  him  impa- 
tiently, spent  the  remainder  of  the  journey  making  fur- 
tive attempts  to  catch  a  second  glimpse  of  her  face. 
Conolly  looked  a  shade  graver  at  his  wife's  failure  in 
perfect  self-control;  but  he  by  no  means  shared  her 
feelings  toward  the  intrusive  passenger.  Marian  and 
he  were  in  different  humors;  and  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  left  alone  with  her. 

As  they  walked  from  Addison  Road  railway  station 
to  their  house,  Conolly  mused  in  silence  with  his  eyes 
on  the  gardens  by  the  way.  Marian,  who  wished  to 
talk,  followed  his  measured  steps  with  impatience. 

"  Let  me  take  your  arm,  Ned :  I  cannot  keep  up  with 
you." 

243 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Certainly." 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  inconveniencing  you,"  she  said,  after 
a  further  interval  of  silence. 

"  Hm— no." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am.  It  does  not  matter.  I  can  get  on 
by  myself." 

"Arm  in  arm  is  such  an  inconvenient  and  ridiculous 
mode  of  locomotion — you  need  not  struggle  in  the  pub- 
lic street:  now  that  you  have  got  my  arm  you  shall 
keep  it — I  say  it  is  such  an  inconvenient  and  rediculous 
mode  of  locomotion  that  if  you  were  any  one  else  I 
should  prefer  to  wheel  you  home  in  a  barrow.  Our 
present  mode  of  proceeding  would  be  inexcusable  if  I 
were  a  traction-engine,  and  you  my  tender." 

"  Then  let  me  go.  What  will  the  people  think  if  they 
see  a  great  engineer  violating  the  laws  of  mechanics  by 
dragging  his  wife  by  the  arm?" 

"  They  will  appreciate  my  motives ;  and,  in  fact,  if  you 
watch  them,  you  will  detect  a  thinly-disguised  envy  in 
their  countenances.  I  violate  the  laws  of  mechanics — to 
use  your  own  sarcastic  phrase — for  many  reasons.  I  like 
to  be  envied  when  there  are  solid  reasons  for  it.  It 
gratifies  my  vanity  to  be  seen  in  this  artistic  quarter  with 
a  pretty  woman  on  my  arm.  Again,  the  sense  of  pos- 
sessing you  is  no  longer  an  abstraction  when  I  hold  you 
bodily,  and  feel  the  impossibility  of  keeping  step  with 
you.  Besides,  Man,  who  was  a  savage  only  yesterday, 
has  his  infirmities,  and  finds  a  poetic  pleasure  in  the 
touch  of  the  woman  he  loves.  And  I  may  add  that  you 
have  been  in  such  a  bad  temper  all  the  afternoon  that  I 
suspect  you  of  an  itching  to  box  my  ears,  and  therefore 
feel  safer  with  your  arm  in  my  custody." 

244 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"Oh!  Indeed  I  have  not  been  in  a  bad  temper.  I 
have  been  most  anxious  to  spend  a  happy  day." 

"And  I  have  been  placidly  reflective,  and  not  anxious 
at  all.  Is  that  what  has  provoked  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  provoked.  But  you  might  tell  me  what 
your  reflections  are  about." 

"  They  would  fill  volumes,  if  I  could  recollect  them." 

"  You  must  recollect  some  of  them.  From  the  time 
we  left  the  station  until  a  moment  ago,  when  we  began 
to  talk,  you  were  pondering  something  with  the  deepest 
seriousness.  What  was  it  ?  " 

"I  forget." 

"  Of  course  you  forget — just  because  I  want  to  know. 
What  a  crowded  road  this  is !  "  She  disengaged  herself 
from  his  arm;  and  this  time  he  did  not  resist  her. 

"  That  reminds  me  of  it.  The  crowd  consists  partly 
of  people  going  to  the  pro-Cathedral.  The  pro-Cathe- 
dral contains  an  altar.  An  altar  suggests  kneeling  on 
hard  stone;  and  that  brings  me  to  the  disease  called 
'  housemaids'  knee,'  which  was  the  subject  of  my  re- 
flections." 

"A  pleasant  subject  for  a  fine  Sunday!  Thank  you. 
I  dont  want  to  hear  any  more." 

"  But  you  will  hear  more  of  it ;  for  I  am  going  to 
have  the  steps  of  our  house  taken  away  and  replaced 
by  marble,  or  slate,  or  something  that  can  be  cleaned 
with  a  mop  and  a  pail  of  water  in  five  minutes." 

"Why?" 

"  My  chain  of  thought  began  at  the  door  steps  we 
have  passed,  all  whitened  beautifully  so  as  to  display  every 
footprint,  and  all  representing  an  expenditure  of  useless, 
injurious  labor  in  hearthstoning,  that  ought  to  madden 
an  intelligent  housemaid.  I  dont  think  our  Armande  is 

245 


The   Irrational   Knot 

particularly  intelligent ;  but  I  am  resolved  to  spare  her 
knees  and  her  temper  in  future  by  banishing  hearth- 
stone from  our  establishment  forever.  I  shudder  to 
think  that  I  have  been  walking  upon  those  white  steps 
and  flagways  of  ours  every  day  without  awakening  to 
a  sense  of  their  immorality." 

"  I  cannot  understand  why  you  are  always  disparaging 
Armande.  And  I  hate  an  ill-kept  house  front.  None  of 
our  housemaids  ever  objected  to  hearthstoning,  or  were 
any  the  worse  for  it." 

"  No.  They  would  not  have  gained  anything  by  ob- 
jecting: they  would  only  have  lost  their  situations.  You 
need  not  fear  for  your  house  front.  I  will  order  a 
porch  with  porphyry  steps  and  alabaster  pillars  to  re- 
place your  beloved  hearthstone." 

"  Yes.  That  will  be  clever.  Do  you  know  how  easy 
it  is  to  stain  marble?  Armande  will  be  on  her  knees 
all  day  with  a  bottle  of  turpentine  and  a  bit  of  flannel." 

"  You  are  thinking  of  inkstains,  Marian.  You  forget 
that  it  does  not  rain  ink,  and  that  Nelly  will  hardly  select 
the  porch  to  write  her  novels  in." 

"  Lots  of  people  bring  ink  on  a  doorstep.  Tax  col- 
lectors and  gasmen  carry  bottles  in  their  pockets." 

"Ask  them  into  the  drawing-room  when  they  call,  my 
dear;  or,  better  still,  dont  pay  them,  so  that  they  will 
have  no  need  to  write  a  receipt.  Let  me  remind  you 
that  ink  shews  as  much  on  white  hearthstone  as  it  can 
possibly  do  on  marble.  Yet  extensive  disfigurements  of 
steps  from  the  visits  of  tax  collectors  are  not  common." 

"  Now,  Ned,  you  know  that  you  are  talking  utter 
nonsense." 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  I  think  I  perceive  Nelly  looking  out 
of  the  window  for  us.  Here  she  is  at  the  door." 

246 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Marian  hastened  forward  and  embraced  her  cousin. 
Miss  McQuinch  looked  older;  and  her  complexion  was 
drier  than  before.  But  she  had  apparently  begun  to 
study  her  appearance;  for  her  hat  and  shoes  were  neat 
and  even  elegant,  which  they  had  never  been  within 
Marian's  previous  experience  of  her. 

"  You  are  not  changed  in  the  least,"  she  said,  as  she 
gave  Conolly  her  hand.  "  I  have  just  been  wondering 
at  the  alteration  in  Marian.  She  has  grown  lovely." 

"  I  have  been  telling  her  so  all  day,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  getting  her  into  a  better  temper.  Come  into  the 
drawing-room.  Have  you  been  waiting  for  us  long  ?  " 

"About  fifteen  minutes.  I  have  been  admiring  your 
organ.  I  should  have  tried  the  piano;  but  I  did  not 
know  whether  that  was  allowable  on  Sunday." 

"  Oh !  Why  did  you  not  pound  it  to  your  heart's 
content?  Ned  scandalizes  the  neighbors  every  Sunday 
by  continually  playing.  Armande:  dinner  as  soon  as 
possible,  please." 

"  I  like  this  house.  It  is  exactly  my  idea  of  a  com- 
fortable modern  home." 

"  You  must  stay  long  enough  to  find  out  its  defects," 
said  Conolly.  "  We  read  your  novel  at  Verona;  but  we 
could  not  agree  as  to  which  characters  you  meant  to 
be  taken  as  the  good  ones." 

"  That  was  only  Ned's  nonsense,"  said  Marian.  "  Most 
novels  are  such  rubbish!  I  am  sure  you  will  be  able  to 
live  by  writing  just  as  well  as  Mrs.  Fairfax  can."  Con- 
oily  shewed  Miss  McQuinch  his  opinion  of  this  unhappy 
remark  by  a  whimsical  glance,  which  she  repudiated  by 
turning  sharply  away  from  him,  and  speaking  as  affec- 
tionately as  she  could  to  Marian. 

After  dinner  they  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  which 

247 


The   Irrational   Knot 

ran  from  the  front  to  the  back  of  the  house.  Marian 
opened  a  large  window  which  gave  access  to  the  garden, 
and  sat  down  with  Elinor  on  a  little  terrace  outside. 
Conolly  went  to  the  organ. 

"  May  I  play  a  voluntary  while  you  talk  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  I  shall  not  scandalize  any  one :  the  neighbors  think 
all  music  sacred  when  it  is  played  on  the  organ." 

"  We  have  a  nice  view  of  the  sunset  from  here,"  said 
Marian,  in  a  low  voice,  turning  her  forehead  to  the  cool 
evening  breeze. 

"  Stuff!  "  said  Elinor.  "  We  didnt  come  here  to  talk 
about  the  sunset,  and  what  a  pretty  house  you  have,  and 
so  forth.  I  want  to  know — good  heavens !  what  a  thun- 
dering sound  that  organ  makes !  " 

"  Please  dont  say  anything  about  it  to  him :  he  likes 
it,"  said  Marian.  "  When  he  wishes  to  exalt  himself, 
he  goes  to  it  and  makes  it  roar  until  the  whole  house 
shakes.  Whenever  he  feels  an  emotional  impulse,  he 
vents  it  at  the  organ  or  the  piano,  or  by  singing.  When 
he  stops,  he  is  satisfied ;  his  mind  is  cleared ;  and  he  is  in 
a  good-humored,  playful  frame  of  mind,  such  as  /  can 
gratify." 

"  But  you  were  always  very  fond  of  music.  Dont 
you  ever  play  together,  as  we  used  to  do ;  or  sing  to  one 
another's  accompaniments  ?  " 

"  I  cannot.  I  hardly  ever  touch  the  piano  when  he  is 
in  the  house." 

"  Why  ?  Are  you  afraid  of  preventing  him  from  hav- 
ing his  turn  ? ' 

"  No :  it  is  not  so  much  that.  But — it  sounds  very 
silly — if  I  attempt  to  play  or  sing  in  his  presence,  I 
become  so  frightfully  nervous  that  I  hardly  know  what 
I  am  doing.  I  know  he  does  not  like  my  singing." 

248 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Are  you  sure  that  is  not  merely  your  fancy  ?  It 
sounds  very  like  it." 

"  No.  At  first  I  used  to  play  a  good  deal  for  him, 
knowing  that  he  was  fond  of  music,  and  fancying — poor 
fool  that  I  was!  [here  Marian  spoke  so  bitterly  that 
Nelly  turned  and  looked  hard  at  her]  that  it  was 
part  of  a  married  woman's  duty  in  a  house  to  supply 
music  after  dinner.  At  that  time  he  was  working  hard 
at  his  business;  and  he  spent  so  much  time  in  the  city 
that  he  had  to  give  up  playing  himself.  Besides,  we 
were  flying  all  about  England  opening  those  branch 
offices,  and  what  not.  He  always  took  me  with  him; 
and  I  really  enjoyed  it,  and  took  quite  an  interest  in  the 
Company.  When  we  were  in  London,  although  I  was 
so  much  alone  in  the  daytime,  I  was  happy  in  anticipating 
our  deferred  honeymoon.  Then  the  time  for  that  para- 
dise came.  Ned  said  that  the  Company  was  able  to  walk 
by  itself  at  last,  and  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  long 
holiday  after  his  dry-nursing  of  it.  We  went  first  to 
Paris,  where  we  heard  all  the  classical  concerts  that 
were  given  while  we  were  there.  I  found  that  he  never 
tired  of  listening  to  orchestral  music;  and  yet  he  never 
ceased  grumbling  at  it.  He  thought  nothing  of  the 
great  artists  in  Paris.  Then  we  went  for  a  tour  through 
Brittany;  and  there,  in  spite  of  his  classical  tastes,  he 
used  to  listen  to  the  peasants'  songs  and  write  them 
down.  He  seemed  to  like  folk  songs  of  all  kinds,  Irish, 
Scotch,  Russian,  German,  Italian,  no  matter  where  from. 
So  one  evening,  at  a  lodging  where  there  was  a  piano, 
I  played  for  him  that  old  arrangement  of  Irish  melodies 
— you  know — 'Irish  Diamonds/  it  is  called." 

"  Oh  Lord !  Yes,  I  remember.  '  Believe  me  if  all/ 
with  variations." 

249 


The   Irrational    Knot 

"  Yes.  He  thought  I  meant  it  in  jest :  he  laughed  at  it, 
and  played  a  lot  of  ridiculous  variations  to  burlesque  it. 
I  didnt  tell  him  that  I  had  been  in  earnest:  perhaps  you 
can  imagine  how  I  felt  about  it.  Then,  after  that,  in 
Italy,  he  got  permission — or  rather  bought  it — to  try 
the  organ  in  a  church.  It  was  growing  dusk;  I  was 
tired  with  walking;  and  somehow  between  the  sense  of 
repose,  and  the  mysterious  twilight  in  the  old  church, 
I  was  greatly  affected  by  his  playing.  I  thought  it  must 
be  part  of  some  great  mass  or  symphony ;  and  I  felt  how 
little  I  knew  about  music,  and  how  trivial  my  wretched 
attempts  must  appear  to  him  when  he  had  such  grand 
harmonies  at  his  fingers'  ends.  But  he  soon  stopped ; 
and  when  I  was  about  to  tell  him  how  I  appreciated  his 
performance,  he  said,  '  What  an  abominable  instrument 
a  bad  organ  is ! '  I  had  thought  it  beautiful,  of  course. 
I  asked  him  what  he  had  been  playing.  I  said  was  it  not 
by  Mozart;  and  then  I  saw  his  eyebrows  go  up;  so  I 
added,  as  a  saving  clause,  that  perhaps  it  was  some- 
thing of  his  own.  '  My  dear  girl/  said  he,  '  it  was  only 
an  entr'acte  from  an  opera  of  Donizetti's.'  He  was  car- 
rying my  shawl  at  the  time;  and  he  wrapped  it  about  my 
shoulders  in  the  tenderest  manner  as  he  said  this,  and 
made  love  to  me  all  the  evening  to  console  me.  In  his 
opinion,  the  greatest  misfortune  that  can  happen  any- 
one is  to  make  a  fool  of  oneself;  and  whenever  I  do  it, 
he  pets  me  in  the  most  delicate  manner,  as  if  I  were  a 
child  who  had  just  got  a  tumble.  When  we  settled 
down  here  and  got  the  organ,  he  began  to  play  con- 
stantly, and  I  used  to  practise  the  piano  in  the  daytime 
so  as  to  have  duets  with  him.  But  though  he  was  always 
ready  to  play  whenever  I  proposed  it,  he  was  quite  dif- 
ferent then  from  what  he  was  when  he  played  by  himself. 

250 


The  Irrational  Knot 

He  was  all  eyes  and  ears,  and  the  moment  I  played  a 
wrong  note  he  would  name  the  right  one.  Then  I  gen- 
erally got  worse  and  stopped.  He  never  lost  his  patience 
or  complained ;  but  I  used  to  feel  that  he  was  urging  me 
on,  or  pulling  me  back,  or  striving  to  get  me  to  do  some- 
thing which  I  could  not  grasp.  Then  he  would  give 
me  up  in  despair,  and  play  on  mechanically  from  the 
notes  before  him,  thinking  of  something  else  all  the 
time.  I  practised  harder,  and  tried  again.  I  thought 
at  first  I  had  succeeded;  because  our  duets  went  so 
smoothly  and  we  were  always  so  perfectly  together.  But 
I  discovered — by  instinct  I  believe — that  instead  of 
having  a  musical  treat,  he  was  only  trying  to  please  me. 
He  thought  I  liked  playing  duets  with  him ;  and  accord- 
ingly he  used  to  sit  down  beside  me  and  accompany  me 
faithfully,  no  matter  how  I  chose  to  play." 

"  Dear  me !  Why  doesnt  he  get  Rubinstein  to  play 
with  him,  since  he  is  so  remarkably  fastidious  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  so  much  mechanical  skill  that  I  lack ;  but 
there  is  something — I  cannot  tell  what  it  is.  I  found 
it  out  one  night  when  we  were  at  Mrs.  Saunders's.  She 
is  an  incurable  flirt ;  and  she  was  quite  sure  that  she  had 
captivated  Ned,  who  is  always  ready  to  make  love  to 
anyone  that  will  listen  to  him." 

"  A  nice  sort  of  man  to  be  married  to ! " 

"  He  only  does  it  to  amuse  himself.  He  does  not 
really  care  for  them:  I  almost  wish  he  did,  sometimes; 
but  it  is  often  none  the  less  provoking.  What  is  worse, 
no  amount  of  flirtation  on  my  part  would  make  him 
angry.  What  happened  at  Mrs.  Saunders's  was  this. 
The  Scotts,  of  Putney,  were  there;  and  the  first  remark 
Ned  made  to  me  was,  '  Who  is  the  woman  that  knows 
how  to  walk  ? '  It  was  Mrs.  Scott :  you  know  you  used 

251 


The  Irrational  Knot 

to  say  she  moved  like  a  panther.  Afterward  Mrs.  Scott 
sang  '  Caller  Herrin '  in  that  vulgar  Scotch  accent  that 
leaks  out  occasionally  in  her  speech,  with  Ned  at  the 
piano.  Everybody  came  crowding  in  to  listen ;  and  there 
was  great  applause.  I  cannot  understand  it:  she  is  as 
hard  and  matter-of-fact  as  a  woman  can  be:  I  dont  be- 
lieve the  expression  in  her  singing  comes  one  bit  from 
true  feeling.  I  heard  Ned  say  to  her,  '  Thank  you,  Mrs. 
Scott:  no  Englishwoman  has  the  secret  of  singing  a 
ballad  as  you  have  it.'  I  knew  very  well  what  that 
meant.  /  have  not  the  secret.  Well,  Mrs.  Scott  came 
over  to  me  and  said  '  Mr.  Conolly  is  a  very  pairtma.- 
ceous  man.  He  persuaded  me  into  shewing  him  the 
way  the  little  song  is  sung  in  Scotland;  and  I  stood  up 
without  thinking.  And  see  now,  I  have  been  ragularly 
singing  a  song  in  company  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.' 
Of  course,  it  was  a  ridiculous  piece  of  affectation.  Ned 
talked  about  Mrs.  Scott  all  the  way  home,  and  played 
'  Caller  Herrin'  four  times  next  day.  That  finished  my 
domestic  musical  career.  I  have  never  sung  for  him 
since,  except  once  or  twice  when  he  has  asked  me  to 
try  the  effect  of  some  passage  in  one  of  his  music-books." 

"And  do  you  never  sing  when  you  go  out,  as  you 
used  to?" 

"  Only  when  he  is  not  with  me,  or  when  people  force 
me  to.  If  he  is  in  the  room,  I  am  so  nervous  that  I  can 
hardly  get  through  the  easiest  song.  He  never  offers  to 
accompany  me  now,  and  generally  leaves  the  room  when 
I  am  asked  to  sing." 

"  Perhaps  he  sees  the  effect  his  presence  has  on  you." 

"  Even  so,  he  ought  to  stay.  He  used  to  like  me  to 
listen  to  him,  at  first." 

Miss  McQuinch  looked  at  the  sunset  with  exceeding 

252 


The  Irrational   Knot 

glumness.  There  was  an  ominous  pause.  Then  she 
said,  abruptly,  "  You  remember  how  we  used  to  debate 
whether  marriage  was  a  mistake  or  not.  Have  you 
found  out  ? " 

"  I  dont  know." 

"  That  sounds  rather  as  if  you  did  know.  Are  you 
quite  sure  you  are  not  in  low  spirits  this  evening?  He 
was  bantering  you  about  being  out  of  temper  when  you 
came  in.  Perhaps  you  quarrelled  at  Kew." 

"  Quarrel !  He  quarrel !  I  cannot  explain  to  you  how 
we  are  situated,  Nelly.  You  would  not  understand  me." 

"  Suppose  you  try.  For  instance,  is  he  as  fond  of  you 
as  he  was  before  you  married  him  ?  " 

"  I  dont  know." 

Miss  McQuinch  shrugged  herself  impatiently. 

"  Really  I  do  not,  Nelly.  He  has  changed  in  a  way — 
I  do  not  quite  know  how  or  why.  At  first  he  was  not 
very  ceremonious.  He  used  to  make  remarks  about 
people,  and  discuss  everything  that  came  into  his  head 
quite  freely  before  me.  He  was  always  kind,  and  never 
grumbled  about  his  dinner,  or  lost  his  temper,  or  any- 
thing of  that  kind;  but — it  was  not  that  he  was  coarse 
exactly:  he  was  not  that  in  the  least;  but  he  was  very 
open  and  unreserved  and  plain  in  his  language;  and 
somehow  I  did  not  quite  like  it.  He  must  have  found 
this  out:  he  sees  and  feels  everything  by  instinct;  for 
he  slipped  back  into  his  old  manner,  and  became  more 
considerate  and  attentive  than  he  had  ever  been  before. 
I  was  made  very  happy  at  first  by  the  change;  but  I  do 
not  think  he  quite  understood  what  I  wanted.  I  did  not 
at  all  object  to  going  down  to  the  country  with  him  on 
his  business  trips;  but  he  always  goes  alone  now;  and 
he  never  mentions  his  work  to  me.  And  he  is  too  care- 

253 


The   Irrational   Knot 

ful  as  to  what  he  says  to  me.  Of  course,  I  know  that 
he  is  right  not  to  speak  ill  of  anybody;  but  still  a  man 
need  not  be  so  particular  before  his  wife  as  before 
strangers.  He  has  given  up  talking  to  me  altogether: 
that  is  the  plain  truth,  whatever  he  may  pretend.  When 
we  do  converse,  his  manner  is  something  like  what  it 
was  in  the  laboratory  at  the  Towers.  Of  course,  he 
sometimes  becomes  more  familiar;  only  then  he  never 
seems  in  earnest,  but  makes  love  to  me  in  a  bantering, 
half  playful,  half  sarcastic  way." 

"  You  are  rather  hard  to  please,  perhaps.  I  remem- 
ber you  used  to  say  that  a  husband  should  be  just  as 
tender  and  respectful  after  marriage  as  before  it.  You 
seem  to  have  broken  poor  Ned  into  this;  and  now  you 
are  not  satisfied." 

"  Nelly,  if  there  is  one  subject  on  which  girls  are  more 
idiotically  ignorant  than  on  any  other,  it  is  happiness  in 
marriage.  A  courtier,  a  lover,  a  man  who  will  not  let 
the  winds  of  heaven  visit  your  face  too  harshly,  is  very 
nice,  no  doubt;  but  he  is  not  a  husband.  I  want  to  be 
a  wife  and  not  a  fragile  ornament  kept  in  a  glass  case. 
He  would  as  soon  think  of  submitting  any  project  of  his 
to  the  judgment  of  a  doll  as  to  mine.  If  he  has  to  ex- 
plain or  discuss  any  serious  matter  of  business  with  me, 
he  does  so  apologetically,  as  if  he  were  treating  me 
roughly." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  see,  when  he  tried  the  other 
plan,  you  did  not  like  that  either.  What  is  the  unfor- 
tunate man  to  do  ?  " 

KI&LUL  r~.,          T  T  .... 

I .  dont  know.     I  suppose  I  was  wrong  in  shrink- 
no  ruin  rmw   rurirLoo  snxtM  ,       .  - 
ing  from  his  confidence.     1  am  always  wrong.     It  seems 

to  me  that  the  more  I  try  to  do  right  the  more  mischief 
*OIBD  00}  ?.i  ^u  Dp/*.,,   .srrf  of  inov/0*. 
I  contrive  to  make. 

254 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  This  is  all  pretty  dismal,  Marian.  What  sort  of 
conduct  on  his  part  would  make  you  happy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there  are  so  many  little  things.  He  makes  me 
jealous  of  everything  and  everybody.  I  am  jealous  of 
the  men  in  the  city — I  was  jealous  of  the  sanitary  in- 
spector the  other  day — because  he  talks  with  interest  to 
them.  I  know  he  stays  in  the  city  later  than  he  need. 
It  is  a  relief  to  me  to  go  out  in  the  evening,  or  to  have 
a  few  people  here  once  or  twice  a  week;  but  I  am  angry 
because  I  know  it  is  a  relief  to  him  too.  I  am  jealous 
even  of  that  organ.  How  I  hate  those  Bach  fugues! 
Listen  to  the  maddening  thing  twisting  and  rolling  and 
racing  and  then  mixing  itself  up  into  one  great  boom. 
He  can  get  on  with  Bach :  he  cant  get  on  with  me.  I 
have  even  condescended  to  be  jealous  of  other  women — 
of  such  women  as  Mrs.  Saunders.  He  despises  her:  he 
plays  with  her  as  dexterously  as  she  thinks  she  plays 
with  him;  but  he  likes  to  chat  with  her;  and  they  rattle 
away  for  a  whole  evening  without  the  least  constraint. 
She  has  no  conscience :  she  talks  absolute  nonsense  about 
art  and  literature :  she  flirts  even  more  disgustingly  than 
she  used  to  when  she  was  Belle  Woodward;  but  she  is 
quickwitted,  like  most  Irish  people;  and  she  enjoys  a 
broad  style  of  jesting  which  Ned  is  a  great  deal  too 
tolerant  of,  though  he  would  as  soon  die  as  indulge 
in  it  before  me.  Then  there  is  Mrs.  Scott,  who  is  just  as 
shrewd  as  Belle,  and  much  cleverer.  I  have  heard  him 
ask  her  opinion  as  to  whether  he  had  acted  well  or  not 
in  some  stroke  of  business — something  that  I  had  never 
heard  of,  of  course.  I  wish  I  were  half  as  hard  and 
strong  and  self-reliant  as  she  is.  Her  husband  would 
be  nothing  without  her." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  was  right  all  along,  Marian.     Marriage 

255 


The   Irrational   Knot 

is  a  mistake.  There  is  something  radically  wrong  in 
the  institution.  If  you  and  Ned  cannot  be  happy,  no 
pair  in  the  world  can." 

"  We  might  be  very  happy  if "  Marian  stopped 

to  repress  a  sob. 

"Anybody  might  be  very  happy  If.  There  is  not 
much  consolation  in  Ifs.  You  could  not  be  better  off 
than  you  are  unless  you  could  be  Marian  Lind  again. 
Think  of  all  the  women  who  would  give  their  souls  to 
have  a  husband  who  would  neither  drink,  nor  swear 
at  them,  nor  kick  them,  nor  sulk  whenever  he  was  kept 
waiting  half  a  minute  for  anything.  You  have  no  little 
pests  of  children " 

"  I  wish  I  had.  That  would  give  us  some  interest  in 
common.  We  sometimes  have  Lucy,  Marmaduke's  little 
girl,  up  here;  and  Ned  seems  to  me  to  be  fond  of  her. 
She  is  a  very  bold  little  thing." 

"  I  saw  Marmaduke  last  week.  He  is  not  half  so 
jolly  as  he  was." 

"  He  lives  in  chambers  in  Westminster  now,  and  only 
comes  out  in  this  direction  occasionally  to  see  Lucy.  I 
am  afraid  she  has  taken  to  drinking.  I  believe  she  is 
going  to  America.  I  hope  she  is;  for  she  makes  me  un- 
comfortable when  I  think  of  her." 

"  Does  your — your  Ned  ever  speak  of  her  ?  " 

"  No.  He  used  to,  before  he  changed  as  I  described. 
Now,  he  never  mentions  her.  Hush!  Here  he  is." 

The  sound  of  the  organ  had  ceased ;  and  Conolly  came 
out  and  stood  between  them. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  consoler,  as  Marian  calls  it  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  Do  you  mean  the  organ  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

256 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  I  wasnt  listening  to  you." 

"  You  should  have :  I  played  the  great  fugue  in  A 
minor  expressly  for  your  entertainment:  you  used  to 
work  at  Liszt's  transcription  of  it.  The  organ  is  only 
occasionally  my  consoler.  For  the  most  part  I  am  driven 
to  it  by  habit  and  a  certain  itching  in  my  fingers.  Ma- 
rian is  my  real  consoler." 

"  So  she  has  just  been  telling  me,"  said  Elinor.  Con- 
oily' s  surprise  escaped  him  for  just  a  moment  in  a  quick 
glance  at  Marian.  She  colored,  and  looked  reproach- 
fully at  her  cousin,  who  added,  "  I  am  sure  you  must  be 
a  nuisance  to  the  neighbors." 

"  Probably,"  said  Conolly. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  should  play  so  much  on  Sunday," 
said  Marian. 

"  I  know.  [Marian  winced.]  Well,  if  the  neighbors 
will  either  melt  down  the  church  bells  they  jangle  so 
horribly  within  fifteen  yards  or  so  of  my  unfortunate 
ears,  or  else  hang  them  up  two  hundred  feet  high  in  a 
beautiful  tower  where  they  would  sound  angelic,  as  they 
do  at  Utrecht,  then  perhaps  I  will  stop  the  organ  to 
listen  to  them.  Until  then,  I  will  take  the  liberty  of 
celebrating  the  day  of  rest  with  such  devices  as  the 
religious  folk  cannot  forbid  me." 

"  Pray  do  not  begin  to  talk  about  religion,  Ned." 

"  My  way  of  thinking  is  too  robust  for  Marian,  Miss 
McQuinch.  I  admit  that  it  does  not,  at  first  sight,  seem 
pretty  or  sentimental.  But  I  do  not  know  how  even 
Marian  can  prefer  the  church  bells  to  Bach." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  even  Marian  '  ?  "  said  Eli- 
nor, sharply. 

"  I  should  have  said,  '  Marian,  who  is  tolerant  and 
kind  to  everybody  and  everything.'  I  hope  you  have 

257 


The  Irrational  Knot 

forgiven  me  for  carrying  her  off  from  you,  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch.  You  are  adopting  an  ominous  tone  toward 
me.  I  fear  she  has  been  telling  you  of  our  quarrels, 
and  my  many  domestic  shortcomings." 

"  No,"  said  Elinor.  "As  far  as  I  can  judge  from  her 
account,  you  are  a  monotonously  amiable  husband." 

"  Indeed !  Hm !  Would  you  like  your  coffee  out 
here?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  not  stir,  Marian :  I  will  ring  for  it." 

When  he  was  gone,  Marian  said  "  Nelly:  for  Heaven's 
sake  say  nothing  that  could  make  the  slightest  coldness 
between  Ned  and  me.  I  am  clinging  to  him  with  all 
my  heart  and  soul;  and  you  must  help  me.  Those  sharp 
things  that  you  say  to  him  stab  me  cruelly;  and  he  is 
clever  enough  to  guess  everything  I  have  said  to  you 
from  them." 

"  If  I  cannot  keep  myself  from  making  mischief,  I 
shall  go  away,"  said  Elinor.  "  Dont  suppose  I  am  in  a 
huff:  I  am  quite  serious.  I  have  an  unlucky  tongue; 
and  my  disposition  is  such  that  when  I  see  that  a  jug  is 
cracked,  I  feel  more  inclined  to  smash  and  have  done 
with  it  than  to  mend  it  and  handle  it  tenderly  ever  after. 
However,  I  hope  your  marriage  is  not  a  cracked  jug 
yet" 


CHAPTER   XIII 

ON  the  following  Wednesday  Douglas  called  on 
his  mother  at  Manchester  Square  in  the  after- 
noon. As  if  to  emphasize  the  purely  filial 
motive  of  his  visit,  he  saluted  his  mother  so  affection- 
ately that  she  was  emboldened  to  be  more  demonstrative 
with  him  than  she  usually  ventured  to  be. 

"  My  darling  boy,"  she  said,  holding  him  fondly  for  a 
moment,  "  this  is  the  second  visit  you  have  paid  your 
poor  old  mother  this  week.  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
about  something,  too.  Marian  has  been  with  me  this 
morning." 

"  What !     Has  she  gone  ?  "  said  Douglas. 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Douglas.  "  Did  you  know  she 
was  coming  ?  " 

"  She  mentioned  to  me  that  she  intended  to  come," 
he  replied,  carelessly ;  "  but  she  bade  me  not  to  tell  you." 

"  That  accounts  for  your  two  visits.  Well,  Sholto, 
I  do  not  blame  you  for  spending  your  time  in  gayer  places 
than  this." 

"  You  must  not  reproach  me  for  neglecting  you, 
mother.  You  know  my  disposition.  I  am  seldom  good 
company  for  any  one;  and  I  do  not  care  to  come  only 
to  cast  a  damp  on  you  and  your  friends  when  I  am 
morose.  I  hope  you  received  Marian  kindly." 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  see  her ;  and  I  told  her  so." 

"Mother!" 

"  But  it  made  no  difference.    There  is  no  holding  her 

259 


The  Irrational   Knot 

in  check  now,  Sholto;  she  cares  no  more  for  what  I 
say  than  if  I  was  her  father  or  you.  What  could  I  do 
but  kiss  and  forgive  her?  She  got  the  better  of  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Douglas,  gloomily.  "  She  has  a  wonder- 
ful face." 

"  The  less  you  see  of  her  face,  the  better,  Sholto.  I 
hope  you  will  not  go  to  her  house  too  often." 

"  Do  you  doubt  my  discretion,  mother  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  Sholto.  But  I  am  afraid  of  any  unpleasant- 
ness arising  between  you  and  that  man.  These  working 
men  are  so  savage  to  their  wives,  and  so  jealous  of  gen- 
tlemen. I  hardly  like  your  going  into  his  house  at  all." 

"Absurd,  mother!  You  must  not  think  that  he  is  a 
navvy  in  fustian  and  corduroys.  He  seems  a  sensible 
man :  his  address  is  really  remarkably  good,  considering 
what  he  is.  As  to  his  being  savage,  he  is  quite  the 
reverse.  His  head  is  full  of  figures  and  machinery ;  and 
I  am  told  that  he  does  nothing  at  home  but  play  the 
piano.  He  must  bore  Marian  terribly.  I  do  not  want 
to  go  to  his  house  particularly;  but  Marian  and  he  are, 
of  course,  very  sensitive  to  anything  that  can  be  con- 
strued as  a  slight  5  and  I  shall  visit  them  once  or  twice 
to  prevent  them  from  thinking  that  I  wish  to  snub  Con- 
oily.  He  will  be  glad  enough  to  have  me  at  his  dinner- 
table.  I  am  afraid  I  must  hurry  away  now :  I  have 
an  appointment  at  the  club.  Can  I  do  anything  for  you 
in  town  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,  Sholto.  I  thought  you  would  have 
stayed  with  me  for  a  cup  of  tea." 

"  Thank  you,  dear  mother,  no :  not  to-day.  I  prom- 
ised to  be  at  the  club." 

"  If  you  promised,  of  course,  you  must  go.  Good-bye. 
You  will  come  again  soon,  will  you  not  ?  " 

260 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Some  day  next  week,  if  not  sooner.  Good-bye, 
mother." 

Douglas  left  Manchester  Square,  not  to  go  to  his 
club,  where  he  had  no  real  appointment,  but  to  avoid 
spending  the  afternoon  with  his  mother,  who,  though  a 
little  hurt  at  his  leaving  her,  was  also  somewhat  relieved 
by  being  rid  of  him.  They  maintained  toward  one 
another  an  attitude  which  their  friends  found  beautiful 
and  edifying;  but,  like  artists'  models,  they  found  the 
attitude  fatiguing,  in  spite  of  their  practice  and  its 
dignity. 

At  Hyde  Park  Corner,  Douglas  heard  his  name  un- 
ceremoniously shouted.  Turning,  he  saw  Marmaduke 
Lind,  carelessly  dressed,  walking  a  little  behind  him. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  ?  "  said  Marmaduke,  ab- 
ruptly. 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  said  Douglas,  never  disposed  to 
admit  the  right  of  another  to  question  him. 

"  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you.  Come  and  lunch 
somewhere,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  wish." 

"  Let's  go  to  the  South  Kensington  Museum." 

"  The  South !  My  dear  fellow,  why  not  suggest 

Putney,  or  the  Star  and  Garter?  Why  do  you  wish 
to  go  westward  from  Hyde  Park  in  search  of  luncheon  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  particular  reason.  I  am  to  meet  someone 
at  the  Museum  this  afternoon;  and  I  want  to  ask  your 
advice  first.  You  might  as  well  come ;  it's  only  a  matter 
of  a  few  minutes  if  we  drive." 

"  Well,  as  you  please.  I  have  not  been  to  the  Museum 
for  years." 

"All    right.     Come    al oh,    damn!     There's    Lady 

261 


The  Irrational   Knot 

Carbury  and  Constance  coming  out  of  the  Park.  Dont 
look  at  them.  Come  on." 

But  Constance,  sitting  a  little  more  uprightly  than 
her  mother,  who  was  supine  upon  the  carriage  cushions, 
had  seen  the  two  gentlemen  as  they  stood  talking. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  "  there's  Marmaduke  and  Sholto 
Douglas." 

"  Where  ?  "  said  the  Countess,  lifting  her  head  quick- 
ly. "  Josephs,  drive  slowly.  Where  are  they,  Cons- 
tance?" 

"  They  are  going  away.  I  believe  Marmaduke  saw 
us.  There  he  is,  passing  the  hospital." 

"  We  must  go  and  speak  to  them.  Look  pleasant, 
child;  and  dont  make  a  fool  of  yourself." 

"  Surely  youll  not  speak  to  him,  mamma !  You  dont 
expect  me " 

"  Nonsense.  I  heard  a  great  deal  about  him  the  other 
day.  He  has  moved  from  where  he  was  living,  and  is 
quite  reformed.  His  father  is  very  ill.  -Do  as  I  tell 
you.  Josephs,  stop  half  way  to  the  hotel." 

"  I  say,"  said  Marmaduke,  finding  himself  out-ma- 
noeuvred :  "  come  back.  There  they  are  right  ahead, 
confound  them.  What  are  they  up  to  ?  " 

"  It  cannot  be  helped,"  said  Douglas.  "  There  is  no 
escape.  You  must  not  cross :  it  would  be  pointedly 
rude." 

Marmaduke  went  on  grumbling.  When  he  attempted 
to  pass,  the  Countess  called  his  name,  and  greeted  him 
with  smiles. 

"  We  want  to  know  how  your  father  is,"  she  said. 
"  We  have  had  such  alarming  accounts  of  him.  I  hope 
he  is  better." 

"  They  havnt  told  me  much  about  him,"  said  Mar- 

262 


The  Irrational   Knot 

maduke.    "  There  was  deuced  little  the  matter  with  the 
governor  when  I  saw  him  last." 

"  Wicked  prodigal !  What  shall  we  do  to  reform  him, 
Mr.  Douglas  ?  He  has  not  been  to  see  us  for  three  years 
past,  and  during  that  time  we  have  had  the  worst  re- 
ports of  him." 

"  You  never  asked  me  to  go  and  see  you." 
-  "  Silly  fellow  !  Did  you  expect  me  to  send  you  invi- 
tations and  leave  cards  on  you,  who  are  one  of  our- 
selves? Come  to-morrow  to  dinner.  Your  uncle  the 
Bishop  will  be  there;  and  you  will  see  nearly  all  the 
family  besides.  You  cannot  plead  that  you  have  not 
been  invited  now.  Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  No.  I  cant  stand  the  Bishop.  Besides,  I  have  taken 
to  dining  in  the  middle  of  the  day." 

"  Come  after  dinner,  then  ?  " 

"  Mamma,"  said  Constance,  peevishly,  "  cant  you  see 
that  he  does  not  want  to  come  at  all?  What  is  the  use 
of  persecuting  him  ?  " 

"  No,  I  assure  you,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  It's  only 
the  Bishop  I  object  to.  I'll  come  after  dinner,  if  I  can." 

"And  pray  what  is  likely  to  prevent  you  ?  "  said  the 
Countess. 

"Devilment  of  some  sort,  perhaps,"  he  replied. 
"  Since  you  have  all  given  me  a  bad  name,  I  dont  see 
why  I  should  make  any  secret  of  earning  it." 

The  Countess  smiled  slyly  at  him,  implying  that  she 
was  amused,  but  must  not  laugh  at  such  a  sentiment  in 
Constance's  presence.  Then,  turning  so  as  to  give  the 
rest  of  the  conversation  an  air  of  privacy,  she  whispered, 
"  I  must  tell  you  that  you  no  longer  have  a  bad  name. 
It  is  said  that  your  wild  oats  are  all  sown,  and  I  will 

263 


The   Irrational   Knot 

answer  for  it  that  even  the  Bishop  will  receive  you  with 
open  arms." 

"And  dry  my  repentant  tears  on  his  apron,  the  old 
hypocrite,"  said  Marmaduke,  speaking  rather  more 
loudly  than  before.  "  Well,  we  must  be  trotting.  We 
are  going  to  the  South  Kensington  Museum — to  improve 
our  minds." 

"  Why,  that  is  where  we  are  going ;  at  least,  Constance 
is.  She  is  going  to  work  at  her  painting  while  I  pay 
a  round  of  visits.  Wont  you  come  with  us  ?  " 

"  Thank  you :  I'd  rather  walk.  A  man  should  have 
gloves  and  a  proper  hat  for  your  sort  of  travelling." 

"  Nonsense !  you  look  very  nice.  Besides,  it  is  only 
down  the  Brompton  Road." 

"  The  worst  neighborhood  in  London  to  be  seen  in 
with  me.  I  know  all  sorts  of  queer  people  down  Bromp- 
ton way.  I  should  have  to  bow  to  them  if  we  met ;  and 
that  wouldnt  do  before  her," — indicating  Constance, 
who  was  conversing  with  Douglas. 

"  You  are  incorrigible :  I  give  you  up.  Good-bye,  and 
dont  forget  to-morrow  evening." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Marmaduke,  as  the  carriage  drove 
off,  "  what  she's  saying  about  me  to  Constance  now." 

"  That  you  are  the  rudest  man  in  London,  perhaps." 

"  Serve  her  right !  I  hate  her.  I  have  got  so  now 
that  I  cant  stand  that  sort  of  woman.  You  see  her 
game,  dont  you;  she  cant  get  Constance  off  her  hands; 
and  she  thinks  there's  a  chance  of  me  still.  How  well 
she  knows  about  the  governor's  state  of  health!  And 
Conny,  too,  grinning  at  me  as  if  we  were  the  best  friends 
in  the  world.  If  that  girl  had  an  ounce  of  spirit  she 
would  not  look  on  the  same  side  of  the  street  with  me." 

Douglas,    without    replying,    called    a    cab.     Marma- 

264 


The  Irrational  Knot 

duke's  loud  conversation  was  irksome  in  the  street,  and 
it  was  now  clear  that  he  was  unusually  excited.  At  the 
museum  they  alighted,  and  passed  through  the  courts 
into  the  grill-room,  where  they  sat  down  together  at 
a  vacant  table,  and  ordered  luncheon. 

"  You  were  good  enough  to  ask  my  advice  about  some- 
thing," said  Douglas.  "What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Well,"  said  Marmaduke,  "  I  am  in  a  fix.  Affairs 
have  become  so  uncomfortable  at  home  that  I  have  had 
to  take  up  my  quarters  elsewhere." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  had  been  living  at  home. 
I  thought  your  father  and  you  were  on  the  usual  terms." 

"  My  father !  Look  here :  I  mean  home — my  home. 
My  place  at  Hammersmith,  not  down  at  the  governor's." 

"  Oh !  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  Of  course,  you  know  all  about  my  establishment 
there  with  Lalage  Virtue?  her  real  name  is  Susanna 
Conolly." 

"  Is  it  true,  then,  that  she  is  a  cousin  of  Marian's  hus- 
band?" 

"  Cousin !  She's  his  sister,  and  Marian's  sister-in- 
law." 

"  I  never  believed  it." 

"  It's  true  enough.  But  thats  not  the  mischief. 
Douglas :  I  tell  you  she's  the  cleverest  woman  in  London. 
She  can  do  anything  she  likes.  She  can  manage  a  con- 
versation with  any  foreigner  in  his  own  language, 
whether  she  knows  it  or  not.  She  gabbles  Italian  like 
a  native.  She  can  learn  off  her  part  in  a  new  piece, 
music  and  all,  between  breakfast  and  luncheon,  any  day. 
She  can  cook:  she  can  make  a  new  bonnet  out  of  the 
lining  of  an  old  coat:  she  can  drive  a  bargain  with  a 
Jew.  She  says  she  never  learns  a  thing  at  all  unless 

265 


The   Irrational   Knot 

she  can  learn  it  in  ten  minutes.  She  can  fence,  and  shoot. 
She  can  dance  anything  in  the  world.  I  never  knew 
such  a  mimic  as  she  is.  If  you  saw  her  take  off  the 
Bones  at  the  Christy  Minstrels,  youd  say  she  was  the 
lowest  of  the  low.  Next  minute  she  will  give  herself 
the  airs  of  a  duchess,  or  do  the  ingenuous  in  a  style  that 
would  make  Conny  burst  with  envy.  To  see  her  preach- 
ing like  George  would  make  you  laugh  for  a  week. 
There's  nothing  she  couldnt  do  if  she  chose.  And  now, 
what  do  you  think  she  has  taken  to?  Liquor.  Cham- 
pagne by  the  gallon.  She  used  to  drink  it  by  the  bottle : 
now  she  drinks  it  by  the  dozen — by  the  case.  She 
wanted  it  to  keep  up  her  spirits.  That  was  the  way  it 
began.  If  she  felt  down,  a  glass  of  champagne  would 
set  her  up.  Then  she  was  always  feeling  down,  and 
always  setting  herself  up.  At  last  feeling  down  came 
to  mean  the  same  thing  as  being  sober.  You  dont  know 
what  a  drunken  woman  is,  Douglas,  unless  youve  lived 
in  the  same  house  with  one."  Douglas  recoiled,  and 
looked  very  sternly  at  Marmaduke,  who  proceeded  more 
vehemently.  "  She's  nothing  but  a  downright  beast. 
She's  either  screaming  at  you  in  a  fit  of  rage,  or  clawing 
at  you  in  a  fit  of  fondness  that  makes  you  sick.  When 
she  falls  asleep,  there  she  is,  a  besotted  heap  tumbled 
anyhow  into  bed,  snoring  and  grunting  like  a  pig.  When 
she  wakes,  she  begins  planning  how  to  get  more  liquor. 
Think  of  what  you  or  I  would  feel  if  we  saw  our  mothers 
tipsy.  By  God,  that  child  of  mine  wouldnt  believe 
its  eyes  if  it  saw  its  mother  sober.  Only  for  Lucy,  I'd 
have  pitched  her  over  long  ago.  I  did  all  I  could  when 
I  first  saw  that  she  was  overdoing  the  champagne.  I 
swore  I'd  break  the  neck  of  any  man  I  caught  bringing 
wine  into  the  house.  I  sacked  the  whole  staff  of  servants 

266 


The  Irrational   Knot 

twice  because  I  found  a  lot  of  fresh  corks  swept  into  the 
dustpan.  I  stopped  drinking  at  home  myself:  I  got  in 
doctors  to  frighten  her:  I  tried  bribing,  coaxing,  threat- 
ening: I  knocked  her  down  once  when  I  caught  her 
with  a  bottle  in  her  hand;  and  she  fell  with  her  head 
against  the  fender,  and  frightened  me  a  good  deal  more 
than  she  hurt  herself.  It  was  no  use.  Sometimes  she 
used  to  defy  me,  and  say  she  would  drink,  she  didnt  care 
whether  she  was  killing  herself  or  not.  Other  times  she 
cried;  implored  me  to  save  her  from  destroying  herself; 
asked  me  why  I  didnt  thrash  the  life  out  of  her  when- 
ever I  caught  her  drunk;  promised  on  her  oath  never 
to  touch  another  drop.  The  same  evening  she  would 
be  drunk  again,  and,  when  I  taxed  her  with  it,  say  that 
she  wasnt  drunk,  that  she  was  sick,  and  that  she  prayed 
the  Almighty  on  her  knees  to  strike  her  dead  if  she  had 
a  bottle  in  the  house.  Aye,  and  the  very  stool  she  knelt 
on  would  be  a  wine  case  with  a  red  cloth  stuck  to  it 
vrith  a  few  gilt-headed  nails  to  make  it  look  like  a  piece 
of  furniture.  Next  day  she  would  laugh  at  me  for 
believing  her,  and  ask  me  what  use  I  supposed  there  was 
in  talking  to  her.  How  she  managed  to  hold  on  at  the 
theatre,  I  dont  know.  She  wouldnt  learn  new  parts,  and 
stuck  to  old  ones  that  she  could  do  in  her  sleep,  she 
knew  them  so  well.  She  would  go  on  the  stage  and  get 
through  a  long  part  when  she  couldnt  walk  straight  from 
the  wing  to  her  dressing-room.  Of  course,  her  voice 
went  to  the  dogs  long  ago;  but  by  dint  of  screeching 
and  croaking  she  pulls  through.  She  says  she  darent 
go  on  sober  now ;  that  she  knows  she  should  break  down. 
The  theatre  has  fallen  off,  too.  The  actors  got  out  of 
the  place  one  by  one — they  didnt  like  playing  with  her — 
and  were  replaced  by  a  third-rate  lot.  The  audiences 

267 


The   Irrational   Knot 

used  to  be  very  decent:  now  they  are  all  cads  and  fast 
women.  The  game  is  up  for  her  in  London.  She  has 
been  offered  an  engagement  in  America  on  the  strength 
of  her  old  reputation;  but  what  is  the  use  of  it  if  she 
continues  drinking." 

"  That  is  very  sad,"  said  Douglas,  with  cold  disgust, 
perfunctorily  veiled  by  a  conventional  air  of  sympathy. 
"  But  if  she  is  irreclaimable,  why  not  leave  her  ?  " 

"  So  I  would,  only  for  the  child.  I  have  left  her — at 
least,  Ive  taken  lodgings  in  town ;  but  I  am  always  run- 
ning out  to  Laurel  Grove.  I  darent  trust  Lucy  to  her; 
and  she  knows  it;  for  she  wouldnt  let  me  take  the  poor 
little  creature  away,  although  she  doesnt  care  two  straws 
for  it.  She  knows  that  it  gives  her  a  grip  over  me. 
Well,  I  have  not  seen  her  for  a  week  past.  I  have  tried 
the  trick  of  only  going  out  in  the  evening  when  she  has 
to  be  at  the  theatre.  And  now  she  has  sent  me  a  long 
letter;  and  I  dont  exactly  know  what  to  do  about  it.  She 
swears  she  has  given  up  drinking — not  touched  a  spoon- 
ful since  I  saw  her  last.  She's  as  superstitious  as  an  old 
woman ;  and  yet  she  will  swear  to  that  lie  with  oaths  that 
make  me  uncomfortable,  although  I  am  pretty  thick- 
skinned  in  religious  matters.  Then  she  goes  drivelling 
on  about  me  having  encouraged  her  to  drink  at  first, 
and  then  turned  upon  her  and  deserted  her  when  I  found 
out  the  mischief  I  had  done.  I  used  to  stand  plenty  of 
champagne,  but  I  am  sure  I  never  thought  what  would 
come  of  it.  Then  she  says  she  gave  up  every  friend  in 
the  world  for  me:  broke  vrith  her  brother,  and  lost  her 
place  in  society.  Her  place  in  society,  mind  you,  Doug- 
las! Thats  not  bad,  is  it?  Then,  of  course,  I  am  leav- 
ing her  to  die  alone  with  her  helpless  child:  I  might 
have  borne  with  her  a  little  longer :  she  will  not  trouble 

268 


The   Irrational   Knot 

me  nor  anyone  else  much  more ;  and  so  on.  The  upshot 
is  that  she  wants  me  to  come  back.  She  says  I  ought 
to  be  there  to  save  the  child  from  her,  if  I  dont  care  to 
save  her  from  herself;  that  I  was  the  last  restraint  on 
her;  and  that  if  I  dont  come  she  will  make  an  end  "of 
the  business  by  changing  her  tipple  to  prussic  acid.  The 
whole  thing  is  a  string  of  maudlin  rot  from  beginning  to 
end;  and  I  believe  she  primed  herself  with  about  four 
bottles  of  champagne  to  write  it.  Still,  I  dont  want  to 
leave  her  in  the  lurch.  You  are  a  man  who  stand  pretty 
closely  on  your  honor.  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  go 
back?  I  may  tell  you  that  as  regards  money  she  is 
under  no  compliment  to  me.  Her  earnings  were  a  good 
half  of  our  income ;  and  she  saved  nothing  out  of  them. 
In  fact,  I  owe  her  some  money  for  two  or  three  old  debts 
she  paid  for  me.  We  always  shared  like  husband  and 
wife." 

"  I  hardly  understand  your  hesitation,  Lind.  You  can 
take  the  little  girl  out  of  her  hands ;  allow  her  something ; 
and  be  quit  of  her." 

"  Thats  very  easy  to  say ;  but  I  cant  drag  her  child 
away  from  her  if  she  insists  on  keeping  it." 

"  Well,  so  much  the  better  for  you.  It  would  be  a 
burden  to  you.  Pay  her  for  its  maintenance :  that  is  prob- 
ably what  she  wants." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Marmaduke,  impatiently.  "  You  dont 
understand.  Youre  talking  as  if  I  were  a  rake  living 
with  a  loose  woman." 

Douglas  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  "  I  confess  I  do 
not  understand,"  he  said.  "  Perhaps  you  will  be  good 
enough  to  explain." 

"  It's  very  simple.  I  went  to  live  with  her  because 
I  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  she  wouldnt  marry  me.  She 

269 


The  Irrational   Knot 

had  a  horror  of  marriage ;  and  I  was  naturally  not  very 
eager  for  it  myself.  Matters  must  be  settled  between 
us  as  if  we  were  husband  and  wife.  Paying  her  off  is 
all  nonsense.  She  doesnt  want  money;  and  I  want  the 
child;  so  she  has  the  advantage  of  me.  Only  for  the 
drink  I  would  go  back  to  her  to-morrow;  but  I  cant 
stand  her  when  she  is  not  sober.  I  bore  with  it  long 
enough;  and  now  all  I  want  is  to  get  Lucy  out  of  her 
hands  and  be  quit  of  her,  as  you  say — although  it  seems 
mean  to  leave  her." 

"  She  must  certainly  be  a  very  extraordinary  woman 
if  she  refused  to  marry  you.  Are  you  sure  she  is  not 
married  already  ?  " 

"  Bosh !  Not  she.  She  likes  to  be  independent ;  and 
she  has  a  sort  of  self-respect — not  like  Constance  and 
the  old  Countess,  who  hunted  me  long  enough  in  the 
hope  of  running  me  down  at  last  in  a  church." 

"  If  you  offered  her  marriage,  that  certainly  frees  you 
from  the  least  obligation  to  stay  with  her.  She  reserved 
liberty  to  leave  you;  and,  of  course,  the  same  privilege 
was  implied  on  your  part.  If  you  have  no  sentimental 
wish  to  return  to  her,  you  are  most  decidedly  not  bound 
in  honor  to." 

"  I'm  fond  enough  of  her  when  she  is  sober ;  but  I 
loathe  her  when  she  is  fuddled.  If  she  would  only  give 
up  drinking,  we  might  make  a  fresh  start.  But  she 
wont." 

"  You  must  not  think  of  doing  that.  Get  rid  of  her, 
my  dear  fellow.  This  marriage  of  Marian's  has  put 
the  affair  on  a  new  footing  altogether.  I  tell  you  can- 
didly, I  think  that  under  the  circumstances  your  con- 
nexion with  Conolly's  sister  is  a  disgraceful  one." 

"  Hang  Conolly !     Everybody  thinks  of  Marian,  and 

270 


The  Irrational   Knot 

nobody  of  Susanna.  I  have  heard  enough  of  that  side 
of  the  question.  Marian  married  him  with  her  eyes 
open." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  knew  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  did.  Conolly  told  her,  fairly  enough. 
He's  an  extraordinary  card,  that  fellow." 

"  Reginald  Lind  told  my  mother  that  the  discovery 
was  made  by  accident  after  the  marriage,  and  that  they 
were  all  shocked  by  it.  It  was  he  who  said  that  it  was 
Conolly 's  cousin  that  you  were  with." 

"  Uncle  Rej.  is  an  old  liar.  So  are  most  of  the  family : 
I  never  believe  a  word  they  say." 

"  Marian  must  have  been  infatuated.  I  advise  you  to 
break  the  connexion.  She  will  be  glad  to  give  you  the 
child  if  she  sees  that  you  are  resolved  to  leave  her.  She 
only  holds  on  because  she  hopes  to  make  it  the  means 
of  bringing  you  back." 

"  I  expect  youre  about  right.  She  wants  me  to  meet 
her  here  to-day  at  half  past  three.  Thats  the  reason  I 
came." 

"  Do  you  know  that  it  now  wants  twenty  minutes  of 
four?" 

"  Whew !  So  it  does.  I  had  better  go  and  look  for 
her.  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,  old  fellow,  for 
talking  it  over  with  me.  I  suppose  you  dont  want  to 
meet  her." 

"  I  should  be  in  the  way  at  present." 

"  Then  good-bye." 

Marmaduke,  leaving  Douglas  in  the  grill-room,  went 
up-stairs  to  the  picture  galleries,  where  several  students 
were  more  or  less  busy  at  their  easels.  Lady  Constance 
was  in  the  Sheepshanks  gallery,  copying  "  Sterne's 
Maria,"  by  Charles  Landseer,  as  best  she  could.  She 

271 


The   Irrational   Knot 

had  been  annoyed  some  minutes  before  by  the  behavior 
of  a  stout  woman  in  a  rich  costume  of  black  silk,  who 
had  stopped  for  a  moment  to  inspect  her  drawing.  Lady 
Constance,  by  a  look,  had  made  her  aware  that  she  was 
considered  intrusive,  whereupon  she  had  first  stared  Lady 
Constance  out  of  countenance,  and  then  deliberately 
scanned  her  work  with  an  expression  which  conveyed 
a  low  opinion  of  its  merit.  Having  thus  revenged  her- 
self, she  stood  looking  uneasily  at  the  door  for  a  minute, 
and  at  last  wandered  away  into  the  adjoining  gallery. 
A  few  minutes  later  Marmaduke  entered,  looking  round 
as  if  in  search  of  someone. 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  Constance  to  him,  playfully. 

"  So  I  see,"  said  Marmaduke,  recognizing  her  with 
rueful  astonishment.  "  You  knew  I  was  looking  for 
you,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  did,  sir." 

"  Youre  clever,  so  you  are.  What  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"  Dont  you  see  ?    I  am  copying  a  picture." 

"  Oh!  it's  very  pretty.     Which  one  are  you  copying?  " 

"  What  an  impertinent  question !  You  can  tell  my 
poor  copy  well  enough,  only  you  pretend  not  to." 

"  Yes,  now  that  I  look  closely  at  it,  I  fancy  it's  a  little 
like  Mary  the  maid  of  the  inn  there." 

"  It's  not  Mary :  it's  Maria — Sterne's  Maria." 

"  Indeed !     Do  you  read  Sterne  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Constance,  looking  very  serious. 

"  Then  what  do  you  paint  his  Maria  for  ?  How  do 
you  know  whether  she  is  a  fit  subject  for  you?  " 

"  Hush,  sir !     You  must  not  interrupt  my  work." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  lots  of  fun  here  over  your  art 
studies,  eh?" 

272 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"Who?" 

"  You,  and  all  the  other  girls  here." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sure  I  dont  know  any  of  them." 

"Quite  right,  too,  your  ladyship.  Dont  make  your- 
self cheap.  I  hope  none  of  the  low  beggars  ever  have 
the  audacity  to  speak  to  you." 

"  I  dont  know  anything  about  them,"  said  Lady  Con- 
stance, pettishly.  "  All  I  mean  is  that  they  are  strangers 
to  me." 

"  Most  likely  theyll  remain  so.  You  all  seem  to  stick 
to  the  little  pictures  tremendously.  Why  dont  you  go 
in  for  high  art?  There's  a  big  picture  of  Adam  and 
Eve !  Why  dont  you  paint  that  ?  " 

"  Will  you  soon  be  leaving  town  ?  "  she  replied,  looking 
steadily  at  her  work,  and  declining  to  discuss  Adam  and 
Eve,  who  were  depicted  naked.  Receiving  no  reply,  she 
looked  round,  and  saw  Marmaduke  leaving  the  room 
with  the  woman  in  the  black  silk  dress. 

"  Who  is  that  girl  ?"  said  Susanna,  as  they  went  out. 

"  That's  Lady  Constance,  whom  I  was  to  have  mar- 
ried." 

"  I  guessed  as  much  when  I  saw  you  talking  to  her. 
She  is  a  true  English  lady,  heaven  bless  her!  I  took 
the  liberty  of  looking  at  her  painting ;  and  she  stared  at 
me  as  if  I  had  bitten  her." 

"  She  is  a  little  fool." 

"  She  will  not  be  such  a  little  fool  as  to  try  to  snub 
me  again,  I  think.  Bob:  did  you  get  my  letter?  " 

"  Of  course  I  got  it,  or  I  shouldnt  be  here." 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  I  dont  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"  That's  plain  speaking." 

273 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"There  is  no  use  mincing  matters.  You  are  just 
as  likely  to  stop  drinking  as  you  are  to  stop  breathing." 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  stop  breathing  before  long." 

"  Very  likely,  at  your  present  rate." 

"  That  will  be  a  relief  to  you." 

"  It  will  be  a  relief  to  everybody,  and  a  release  for 
yourself.  You  have  made  me  miserable  for  a  year  past; 
and  now  you  expect  me  to  be  frightened  at  the  prospect 
of  being  rid  of  you." 

"  I  dont  expect  you  to  be  frightened.  I  expect  you 
to  do  what  all  men  do:  throw  me  aside  as  soon  as  I 
have  served  your  turn." 

"  Yes.     Of    course,    you    are    the    aggrieved    party. 
Where's  Lucy?" 
"  I  dont  know,  and  I  dont  care." 

"  Well,  I  want  to  know ;  and  I  do  care.  Is  she  at 
home?" 

"  How  do  I  know  whether  she  is  at  home  or  not.  I 
left  her  there.  Very  likely  she  is  with  her  Aunt  Marian, 
telling  stories  about  her  mother." 

"  She  is  better  there  than  with  you.  What  harm  has 
she  done  you  that  you  should  talk  about  her  in  that 
way?" 

"  No  harm.  I  dont  object  to  her  being  there.  She 
has  very  pleasant  conversations  with  Mrs.  Ned,  which 
she  retails  to  me  at  home.  'Aunty  Marian :  why  do  you 
never  drink  champagne?  Mamma  is  always  drinking 
it.'  And  then,  '  Mamma :  why  do  you  drink  so  much 
wine  ?  Aunty  Marian  never  drinks  any.'  Good  heavens ! 
the  little  devil  told  me  this  morning  by  way  of  conso- 
lation that  she  always  takes  care  not  to  tell  her  Aunty 
that  I  get  drunk." 

"  What  did  you  do  to  her  for  saying  it  ?  " 

274 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  Dont  lose  your  temper.  I  didnt  strangle  her,  nor 
even  box  her  ears.  Why  should  I?  She  only  repeats 
what  you  teach  her." 

"  She  repeats  what  her  eyes  and  ears  teach  her.  If 
she  learned  the  word  from  me,  she  learned  the  meaning 
from  you.  A  nice  lesson  for  a  child  hardly  three  years 
old." 

Susanna  sat  down  on  a  bench,  and  looked  down  at  her 
feet.  After  a  few  moments,  she  tightened  her  lips;  rose; 
and  walked  away. 

"  Hallo !  Where  are  you  going  to  ?  "  said  Marmaduke, 
following  her. 

"  I'm  going  to  get  some  drink.  I  have  been  sober  and 
miserable  ever  since  I  wrote  to  you.  I  have  not  got 
much  thanks  for  it,  except  to  be  made  more  miserable. 
So  I'll  get  drunk,  and  be  happy." 

"  No,  you  shant,"  said  Marmaduke,  seizing  her  arm, 
and  forcibly  stopping  her. 

"  What  does  it  matter  to  you  whether  I  do  or  not  ? 
You  say  you  wont  come  back.  Then  leave  me  to  go  my 
own  way." 

"  Here !  you  sit  down,"  he  said,  pushing  her  into  a 
chair.  "  I  know  your  game  well  enough.  You  think  you 
have  me  safe  as  long  as  you  have  the  child." 

"  Oh,  thats  it,  is  it  ?  Why  dont  you  go  out ;  take  a 
cab ;  and  go  to  Laurel  Grove  for  her  ?  There  is  nothing 
to  prevent  you  taking  her  away." 

"  I  have  a  good  mind  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  do  it.  I  wont  stop  you.  Why  didnt  you  do 
it  long  ago?  Her  home  is  no  place  for  her.  I'm  not 
fit  to  have  charge  of  her.  I  have  no  fancy  for  having  her 
talking  about  me,  and  most  likely  mimicking  me  to 
other  people." 

275 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  Thats  exactly  what  I  want  to  arrange  with  you  to 
do,  if  you  will  only  be  reasonable.  Listen.  Let  us  part 
friends,  Susanna,  since  there  is  no  use  in  our  going  on 
together.  You  must  give  me  the  child.  It  would  only 
be  a  burden  to  you;  and  I  can  have  it  well  taken  care 
of.  You  can  keep  the  house  just  as  it  is:  I  will  pay 
the  rent  of  it." 

"  What  good  is  the  house  to  me  ?  " 

"  Cant  you  hear  me  out  ?  It  will  be  good  to  you  to 
live  in,  I  suppose;  or  you  can  set  it  on  fire,  and  wipe  it 
off  the  face  of  the  earth,  for  what  I  care.  I  can  give 
you  five  hundred  pounds  down " 

"  Five  hundred  pounds !  And  what  will  you  live  on 
until  your  October  dividends  come  in?  On  credit,  I 
suppose.  Do  you  think  you  can  impose  on  me  by  flour- 
ishing money  before  me?  I  will  never  take  a  halfpenny 
from  you ;  no,  not  if  I  starve  for  it." 

"  Thats  all  nonsense,  Susanna.    You  must." 

"  Must  I  ?  Do  you  think  you  can  make  me  take  your 
money  as  you  made  me  sit  down  here  ?  by  force !  " 

"  I  only  offer  you  what  I  owe  you.     Those  debts " 

"  I  dont  want  what  you  owe  me.  If  you  think  it  mean 
to  leave  me,  you  shant  plaster  up  your  conscience  with 
bank  notes.  You  would  like  to  be  able  to  say  in  your 
club  that  you  treated  me  handsomely." 

"  I  dont  think  it  mean  to  leave  you,  not  a  bit  of  it. 
Any  other  man  would  have  left  you  months  ago.  If  I 
had  married  that  little  fool  inside  there,  and  she  had 
taken  to  drink,  I  wouldnt  have  stood  it  a  week.  I  have 
stood  it  from  you  nearly  a  year.  Can  you  expect  me 
to  stay  under  the  same  roof  with  you,  with  the  very 
thought  of  you  making  me  sick  and  angry?  I  was 
looking  at  some  of  your  old  likenesses  the  other  day; 

276 


The  Irrational  Knot 

and  I  declare  that  it  is  enough  to  make  a  man  cry  to 
look  at  your  face  now  and  listen  to  your  voice.  When 
you  used  to  lecture  me  for  losing  a  twenty  pound  note 
at  billiards,  and  coming  home  half  screwed — no  man 
shall  ever  see  me  drunk  again — I  little  thought  which 
of  us  would  be  the  first  to  go  to  the  dogs." 

"  I  shall  not  trouble  you  long." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  harping  on  that  ?  I  have  seen 
you  drunk  so  often  that  I  should  almost  be  glad  to  see 
you  dead." 

"  Stop !  "  said  Susanna,  rising.  "All  right :  you  need 
say  no  more.  Talking  will  not  remedy  matters;  and  it 
makes  me  feel  pretty  much  as  if  you  were  throwing  big 
stones  at  my  heart.  Youre  in  the  right,  I  suppose :  Ive 
chosen  to  make  a  beast  of  myself,  and  I  must  take  the 
consequences.  You  can  have  the  child.  I  will  send  for 
my  things:  you  wont  see  me  at  Laurel  Grove  again. 
Good-bye." 

"  But " 

"  Dont  say  another  word,  Bob.  Good-bye."  He  took 
her  hand  irresolutely.  She  drew  it  quickly  away;  nodded 
to  him;  and  went  out,  whilst  he  stood  wondering  whether 
it  would  be  safe — seeing  that  he  did  not  desire  a  recon- 
ciliation— to  kiss  her  good-bye. 


277 


CHAPTER   XIV 

ON  Sunday  afternoon  Douglas  walked,  facing  a 
glorious  sunset,  along  Uxbridge  Road  to  Hol- 
land Park,  where  he  found  Mrs.  Conolly,  Miss 
McQuinch,  and  Marmaduke.  A  little  girl  was  playing 
in  the  garden.  They  were  all  so  unconstrained,  and  so 
like  their  old  selves,  that  Douglas  at  once  felt  that  Con- 
olly was  absent. 

"  I  am  to  make  Ned's  excuses,"  said  Marian.  "  He 
has  some  pressing  family  affairs  to  arrange."  She 
seemed  about  to  explain  further ;  but  Marmaduke  looked 
so  uneasily  at  her  that  she  stopped.  Then,  resuming  gaily, 
she  added,  "  I  told  Ned  that  he  need  not  stand  on  cere- 
mony with  you.  Fancy  my  saying  that  of  you,  the  most 
punctilious  of  men !  " 

"  Quite  right.  I  am  glad  that  Mr.  Conolly  has  not 
suffered  me  to  interfere  with  his  movements,"  he  replied, 
with  a  smile,  which  he  suppressed  as  he  turned  and 
greeted  Miss  McQuinch  with  his  usual  cold  composure. 
But  to  Marmaduke,  who  seemed  much  cast  down,  he 
gave  an  encouraging  squeeze  of  the  hand.  Not  that  he 
was  moved  by  the  misfortunes  of  Marmaduke;  but  he 
was  thawed  by  the  beauty  of  Marian. 

"  We  shall  have  a  pleasant  evening,"  continued  Ma- 
rian. "  Let  us  fancy  ourselves  back  at  Westbourne  Ter- 
race again.  Reminiscences  make  one  feel  so  deliciously 
aged  and  sad.  Let  us  think  that  it  is  one  of  our  old 
Sunday  afternoons.  Sholto  had  better  go  up-stairs  and 
shave,  to  heighten  the  illusion." 

278 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Not  for  me,  since  I  cannot  see  myself,  particularly 
if  I  have  to  call  you  Mrs.  Conolly.  If  I  may  call  you 
Marian,  as  I  used  to  do,  I  think  that  our  conversation 
will  contain  fewer  reminders  of  the  lapse  of  time." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Marian,  disregarding  an  anxious 
glance  from  Elinor.  "  What  else  should  you  call  me  ? 
We  were  talking  about  Nelly's  fame  when  you  came  in. 
The  colonial  edition  of  her  book  has  just  appeared. 
Behold  the  advertisement !  " 

There  was  a  newspaper  open  on  the  table;  and  Marian 
pointed  to  one  of  its  columns  as  she  spoke.  Douglas 
took  it  up  and  read  the  following: 

Now  Ready,  a  New  and  Cheaper  Edition,  crown  8vo,  55. 

THE  WATERS  OF  MARAH, 
BY  ELINOR  McQuiNCH. 

"  Superior  to  many  of  the  numerous  tales  which  find 
a  ready  sale  at  the  railway  bookstall."  Athen&um. 

"  There  is  nothing  to  fatigue,  and  something  to  gratify, 
the  idle  reader."  Examiner. 

"  There  is  a  ring  of  solid  metal  in  '  The  Waters  of 
Marah.' "  Daily  Telegraph. 

"  Miss  McQuinch  has  fairly  established  her  claim  to 
be  considered  the  greatest  novelist  of  the  age."  Mid- 
dlingtown  Mercury. 

"  Replete  with  thrilling  and  dramatic  incident 

Instinct  with  passion  and  pathos."  Ladies'  Gazette. 

TABUTEAU  &  SON,  COVENT  GARDEN. 

"  That  is  very  flattering,"  said  Douglas,  as  he  replaced 
the  paper  on  the  table. 

279 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Highly  so,"  said  Elinor.  "  Coriolanus  displaying  his 
wounds  in  the  Forum  is  nothing  to  it."  And  she  ab- 
ruptly took  the  paper,  and  threw  it  disgustedly  behind  the 
sofa.  Just  then  a  message  from  the  kitchen  engaged 
Marian's  attention,  and  Douglas,  to  relieve  her  from  her 
guests  for  the  moment,  strolled  out  upon  the  little  ter- 
race, whither  Marmaduke  had  moodily  preceded  him. 

"  Still  in  your  difficulties,  Lind?"  he  said,  with  his 
perfunctory  air  of  concern,  looking  at  the  garden  with 
some  interest. 

"  I'm  out  of  my  difficulties  clean  enough,"  said  Mar- 
maduke. "  There's  the  child  among  the  currant  bushes ; 
and  I  am  rid  of  her  mother:  -for  good,  I  suppose." 

"  So  much  the  better !  I  hope  it  has  not  cost  you  too 
much." 

"  Not  a  rap.  I  met  her  in  the  museum  after  our 
confab  on  Wednesday,  and  told  her  what  you  recom- 
mended: that  I  must  have  the  child,  and  that  she  must 
go.  She  said  all  right,  and  shook  hands.  I  havnt  seen 
her  since." 

"  I  congratulate  you." 

"  I  dont  feel  comfortable  about  her." 

"Absurd,  man !    What  better  could  you  have  done  ?  " 

"  Thats  just  what  I  say.  It  was  her  own  fault :  I  did 
all  in  my  power.  I  offered  her  five  hundred  pounds  down. 
She  wouldnt  have  it,  of  course;  but  could  I  help  that? 
Next  day,  when  she  sent  her  maid  for  her  things,  I  felt 
so  uneasy  that  I  came  to  Conolly,  and  told  him  the  whole 
affair.  He  behaved  very  decently  about  it,  and  said  that 
I  might  as  well  have  left  her  six  months  ago  for  all  the 
good  my  staying  had  done  or  was  likely  to  do.  He  has 
gone  off  to  see  her  to-day — she  is  in  lodgings  somewhere 
near  the  theatre;  and  he  will  let  me  know  in  case  any 

280 


The   Irrational   Knot 

money  is  required.  I  should  like  to  know  what  they  are 
saying  to  one  another  about  me.  Theyre  a  rum  pair." 

"  Well,  let  us  eat  and  drink ;  for  to-morrow  we  die," 
said  Douglas,  with  an  unnatural  attempt  at  humor. 
"  Marian  seems  happy.  We  must  not  spoil  her  evening." 

"  Yes:  she  is  always  in  good  spirits  when  he  is  away." 

"Indeed?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  they  dont  pull  together.  I  think 
she  is  afraid  of  him." 

"  You  dont  mean  to  say  that  he  ill-treats  her  ?  "  said 
Douglas,  fiercely. 

"  No :  I  dont  mean  that  he  thrashes  her,  or  anything 
of  that  sort.  And  yet  he  is  just  that  sort  of  chap  that 
I  shouldnt  be  surprised  at  anything  he  might  do.  As 
far  as  ordinary  matters  go,  he  seems  to  treat  her  particu- 
larly well.  But  Ive  noticed  that  she  shuts  up  and  gets 
anxious  when  he  comes  into  the  room;  and  he  has  his 
own  way  in  everything." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  He  embarrasses  her  by  his  behavior,  I 
suppose.  Perhaps  she  is  afraid  of  his  allowing  his 
breeding  to  peep  out." 

"  Not  she.  His  manners  are  all  right  enough.  Be- 
sides, as  he  is  a  genius  and  a  celebrity  and  all  that,  people 
dont  expect  him  to  be  conventional.  He  might  stand 
on  his  head,  if  he  chose." 

"  Sholto,"  said  Marian,  joining  them;  "  have  you 
spoken  to  little  Lucy  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  you  are  unacquainted  with  the  most  absolute 
imp  on  the  face  of  the  earth,"  said  Elinor.  "  You  neednt 
frown,  Marrhaduke:  it  is  you  who  have  made  her  so." 

"  Leave  her  alone,"  said  Marmaduke  to  Marian,  who 


281 


The  Irrational   Knot 

was  about  to  call  the  child.  "  Petting  babies  is  not  in 
Douglas's  line:  she  will  only  bore  him." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Douglas. 

"  It  does  not  matter  whether  she  bores  him  or  not," 
said  Marian.  "  He  must  learn  to  take  a  proper  interest 
in  children.  Lucy:  come  here." 

Lucy  stopped  playing,  and  said,  "What  for?" 

"  Because  I  ask  you  to,  dear,"  said  Marian,  gently. 

The  child  considered  for  a  while,  and  then  resumed 
her  play.  Miss  McQuinch  laughed.  Marmaduke  mut- 
tered impatiently,  and  went  down  the  garden.  Lucy  did 
not  perceive  him  until  he  was  within  a  few  steps  of  her, 
when  she  gave  a  shrill  cry  of  surprise,  and  ran  to  the 
other  side  of  a  flower-bed  too  wide  for  him  to  spring 
across.  He  gave  chase ;  but  she,  with  screams  of  laugh- 
ter, avoided  him  by  running  to  and  fro  so  as  to  keep 
on  the  opposite  side  to  him.  Feeling  that  it  was  un- 
dignified to  dodge  his  child  thus,  he  stopped  and  bade 
her  come  to  him;  but  she  only  laughed  the  more.  He 
called  her  in  tones  of  command,  entreaty,  expostulation, 
and  impatience.  At  last  he  shouted  to  her  menacingly. 
She  placed  her  thumbnail  against  the  tip  of  her  nose; 
spread  her  fingers;  and  made  him  a  curtsy.  He  uttered 
an  imprecation,  and  returned  angrily  to  the  house,  saying, 
between  his  teeth : 

"  Let  her  stay  out,  since  she  chooses  to  be  obstinate." 

"  She  is  really  too  bad  to-day,"  said  Marian.  "  I  am 
quite  shocked  at  her." 

"  She  is  quite  right  not  to  come  in  and  be  handed 
round  for  inspection  like  a  doll,"  said  Elinor. 

"  She  is  very  bold  not  to  come  when  she  is  told,"  said 
Marian. 

282 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Yes,  from  your  point  of  view,"  said  Elinor.  "  I 
like  bold  children." 

Marmaduke  was  sulky  and  Marian  serious  for  some 
time  after  this  incident.  They  recovered  their  spirits  at 
dinner,  when  Marian  related  to  Douglas  how  she  had 
become  reconciled  to  his  mother.  Afterward,  Marma- 
duke suggested  a  game  at  whist. 

"  Oh  no,  not  on  Sunday,"  said  Marian.  "  Whist  is 
too  wicked." 

"  Then  what  the  dickens  may  we  do  ?  "  said  Marma- 
duke. "  May  Nelly  play  ecarte  with  me  ?  " 

"  Well,  please  dont  play  for  money.  And  dont  sit 
close  to  the  front  window." 

"  Come  along,  then,  Nell.  You  two  may  sing  hymns, 
if  you  like." 

"  I  wish  you  could  sing,  Sholto,"  said  Marian.  "  It 
is  an  age  since  we  last  had  a  game  of  chess  together. 
Do  you  still  play  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Douglas;  "I  shall  be  delighted.  But  I 
fear  you  will  beat  me  now,  as  I  suppose  you  have  been 
practising  with  Mr.  Conolly." 

"  Playing  with  Ned !  No;  he  hates  chess.  He  says  it 
is  a  foolish  expedient  for  making  idle  people  believe  they 
are  doing  something  very  clever  when  they  are  only 
wasting  their  time.  He  actually  grumbled  about  the 
price  of  the  table  and  the  pieces;  but  I  insisted  on  hav- 
ing them,  I  suppose  in  remembrance  of  you." 

"  It  is  kind  of  you  to  say  that,  Marian.  Will  you 
have  black  or  white?" 

"  White,  please,  unless  you  wish  me  to  be  always 
making  moves  with  your  men." 

"  Now.     Will  you  move  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  had  rather  you  began.    Remember  our  old 

283 


The  Irrational  Knot 

conditions.  You  are  not  to  checkmate  me  in  three  moves; 
and  you  are  not  to  take  my  queen." 

"  Very  well.  You  may  rely  upon  it  I  shall  think  more 
of  my  adversary  than  of  my  game.  Check." 

"  Oh !  You  have  done  it  in  three  moves.  That  is  not 
fair.  I  wont  play  any  more  unless  you  take  back  that." 

"  No,  I  assure  you  it  is  not  checkmate.  My  bishop 
should  be  at  the  other  side  for  that.  There!  of  course, 
that  will  do." 

"  What  a  noise  Marmaduke  makes  over  his  cards !  I 
hope  the  people  next  door  will  not  hear  him  swearing." 

"  Impossible.  You  must  not  move  that  knight:  it  ex- 
poses your  king.  Do  you  know,  I  think  there  is  a  great 
charm  about  this  house." 

"  Indeed?     Yes,  it  is  a  pretty  house." 

"And  this  sunset  hour  makes  it  additionally  so.  Be- 
sides, it  is  inexpressibly  sad  to  see  you  here,  a  perfectly 
happy  and  perfectly  beautiful  mistress  of  this  romantic 
foreign  home." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Sholto?" 

"  I  call  it  a  foreign  home  because,  though  it  is  yours, 
I  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  it.  Remember,  we  are  only 
playing  at  old  times  to-night.  Everything  around,  from 
the  organ  to  the  ring  on  your  finger,  reminds  me  that  I 
am  a  stranger  here.  It  seems  almost  unkind  of  you  to 
regret  nothing  whilst  I  am  full  of  regrets." 

"  Check,"  said  Marian.     "  Mind  your  game,  sir." 

"  Flippant !  "  exclaimed  Douglas,  impatiently  moving 
his  king.  "  I  verily  believe  that  if  your  husband  were  at 
the  bottom  of  the  Thames  at  this  moment,  you  would 
fly  off  unconcernedly  to  some  other  nest,  and  break 
hearts  with  as  much  indifference  as  ever." 

"  I   wish  you   would  not  make   suggestions   of  that 

284 


The  Irrational   Knot 

sort,  Sholto.  You  make  me  uncomfortable.  Something 
might  happen  to  Ned.  I  wish  he  were  home.  He  is 
very  late." 

"  Happy  man.  You  can  be  serious  when  you  think 
about  him.  I  envy  him." 

"What!  Sholto  Douglas  stoop  to  envy  any  mortal! 
Prodigious !  " 

"  Yes:  it  has  come  to  that  with  me.  Why  should  I  not 
envy  him?  His  career  has  been  upward  throughout. 
He  has  been  a  successful  worker  in  the  world,  where  I 
have  had  nothing  real  to  do.  When  the  good  things  I 
had  been  dreaming  of  and  longing  for  all  my  life  came 
in  his  path,  he  had  them  for  the  mere  asking.  I  valued 
them  so  highly  that  when  I  fancied  I  possessed  them,  I 
was  the  proudest  of  men.  I  am  humble  enough  now 
that  I  am  beggared." 

"  You  are  really  talking  the  greatest  nonsense." 

"  No  doubt  I  am.  Still  in  love,  Marian,  you  see. 
There  is  no  harm  in  telling  you  so  now." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  now  that  there  is  harm.  For 
shame,  Sholto ! " 

"  I  am  not  ashamed.  I  tell  you  of  my  love  because 
now  you  can  listen  to  me  without  uneasiness,  knowing 
that  it  is  no  longer  associated  with  hope,  or  desire,  or 
anything  but  regret.  You  see  that  I  do  not  affect  the 
romantic  lover.  I  eat  very  well;  I  play  chess;  I  go 
into  society;  and  you  reproach  me  for  growing  fat." 

Marian  bent  over  the  chessboard  for  a  moment  to 
hide  her  face.  Then  she  said  in  a  lower  voice,  "  I  have 
thoroughly  convinced  myself  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  love  in  the  world." 

"That  means  that  you  have  never  experienced  it." 

"  I  have  told  you  already  that  I  have  never  been  in 

285 


The  Irrational   Knot 

love,  and  that  I  dont  believe  a  bit  in  it.  I  mean  romantic 
love,  of  course." 

"  I  verily  believe  that  you  have  not.  The  future  has 
one  more  pang  in  store  for  me;  for  you  will  surely  love 
some  day." 

"  I  am  getting  too  old  for  that,  I  fear.  At  what  age, 
pray,  did  you  receive  the  arrow  in  your  heart  ?  " 

"  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  loved  a  vision.  The  happiest 
hours  of  my  life  were  those  in  which  I  was  slowly, 
tremulously  daring  to  believe  that  I  had  found  my  vision 
at  last  in  you.  And  then  the  dreams  that  followed! 
What  a  career  was  to  have  been  mine !  I  remember  how 
you  used  to  reproach  me  because  I  was  austere  with 
women  and  proud  with  men.  How  could  I  have  been 
otherwise?  I  contrasted  the  gifts  of  all  other  women 
with  those  of  my  elect,  and  the  lot  of  all  other  men 
with  my  own.  Can  you  wonder  that,  doing  so,  I  carried 
my  head  among  the  clouds?  You  must  remember  how 
unfamiliar  failure  was  to  me.  At  school,  at  Oxford,  in 
society,  I  had  sought  distinction  without  misgiving,  and 
attained  it  without  difficulty.  My  one  dearest  object  I 
deemed  secure  long  before  I  opened  my  lips  and  asked 
expressly  for  it.  I  think  I  walked  through  life  at  that 
time  like  a  somnambulist;  for  I  have  since  seen  that  I 
must  have  been  piling  mistake  upon  mistake  until  out 
of  a  chaos  of  meaningless  words  and  smiles  I  had  woven 
a  Paphian  love  temple.  At  the  first  menace  of  disap- 
pointment— a  thing  as  new  and  horrible  to  me  as  death 
— I  fled  the  country.  I  came  back  with  only  the  ruins 
of  the  doomed  temple.  You  were  not  content  to  destroy 
a  ruin:  the  feat  was  too  easy  to  be  glorious.  So  you 
rebuilt  it  in  one  hour  to  the  very  dome,  and  lighted  its 
altars  with  more  than  their  former  radiance.  Then,  as 

286 


The   Irrational   Knot 

though  it  were  but  a  house  of  cards — as  indeed  it  was 
nothing  else — you  gave  it  one  delicate  touch  and  razed 
it  to  its  foundations.  Yet  I  am  afraid  those  altar  lamps 
were  not  wholly  extinguished.  They  smoulder  beneath 
the  ruins  still." 

"  I  wonder  why  they  made  you  the  Newdigate  poet  at 
Oxford,  Sholto:  you  mix  your  metaphors  most  dread- 
fully. Dont  be  angry  with  me:  I  understand  what  you 
mean ;  and  I  am  very  sorry.  I  say  flippant  things  because 
I  must.  How  can  one  meet  seriousness  in  modern  society 
except  by  chaff  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  angry.  I  had  rather  you  did  not  under- 
stand. The  more  flippant  you  are,  the  more  you  harden 
my  heart ;  and  I  want  it  to  be  as  hard  as  the  nether  mill- 
stone. Your  pity  would  soften  me;  and  I  dread  that." 

"  I  believe  it  does  every  man  good  to  be  softened. 
If  you  ever  really  felt  what  you  describe,  you  greatly 
over-estimated  me.  What  can  you  lose  by  a  little  more 
softness?  I  often  think  that  men — particularly  good 
men — make  their  way  through  the  world  too  much  as 
if  it  were  a  solid  mass  of  iron  through  which  they  must 
cut — as  if  they  dared  not  relax  their  hardest  edge  and 
finest  temper  for  a  moment.  Surely,  that  is  not  the 
way  to  enjoy  life." 

"  Perhaps  not.  Still,  it  is  the  way  to  conquer  in  life. 
It  may  be  pleasant  to  have  a  soft  heart ;  but  then  someone 
is  sure  to  break  it." 

"  I  do  not  believe  much  in  broken  hearts.  Besides, 
I  do  not  mean  that  men  should  be  too  soft.  For  in- 
stance, sentimental  young  men  of  about  twenty  are 
odious.  But  for  a  man  to  get  into  a  fighting  attitude 
at  the  barest  suggestion  of  sentiment ;  to  believe  in  nature 

287 


The  Irrational  Knot 

as  something  inexorable,  and  to  aim  at  being  as  inexo- 
rable as  nature :  is  not  that  almost  as  bad  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  any  such  man  ?  You  must  not  at- 
tribute that  sort  of  hardness  to  me." 

"  Oh  no :  I  was  not  thinking  of  you.  I  was  not 
thinking  of  anyone  in  fact.  I  only  put  a  case.  I  some- 
times have  disputes  with  Ned  on  the  subject.  One  of 
his  cardinal  principles  is  that  there  is  no  use  in  crying 
for  spilt  milk.  I  always  argue  that  as  irremediable  dis- 
asters are  the  only  ones  that  deserve  or  obtain  sympathy, 
he  might  as  well  say  that  there  is  no  use  in  crying  for 
anything.  Then  he  slips  out  of  the  difficulty  by  saying 
that  that  was  just  what  he  meant,  and  that  there  is 
actually  no  place  for  regret  in  a  well-regulated  scheme 
of  life.  In  debating  with  women,  men  brazen  out  all 
the  ridiculous  conclusions  of  which  they  are  convicted; 
and  then  they  say  that  there  is  no  use  in  arguing  with 
a  woman.  Neither  is  there,  because  the  woman  is  al- 
ways right" 

"  Yes ;  because  she  suffers  her  heart  to  direct  her." 

"  You  are  just  as  bad  as  the  rest  of  your  sex,  I  see. 
Where  you  cannot  withold  credit  from  a  woman,  you 
give  it  to  her  heart  and  deny  it  to  her  head." 

"  There !  I  wont  play  any  more,"  said  Miss  McQuinch, 
suddenly,  at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  "  Have  you 
finished  your  chess,  Marian  ?  " 

"  We  are  nearly  done.  Ring  for  the  lamps,  please, 
Nelly.  Let  us  finish,  Sholto." 

"  Whose  turn  is  it  to  move  ?  I  beg  your  pardon  for 
my  inattention." 

"  Mine — no,  yours.  Stop !  it  must  be  mine.  I  really 
dont  know." 

'*  Nor  do  I.     I  have  forgotten  my  game." 

288 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"Then  let  us  put  up  the  board.  We  can  finish  some 
other  night." 

It  had  become  dark  by  this  time;  and  the  lamps  were 
brought  in  whilst  Douglas  was  replacing  the  chessmen 
in  their  box. 

"  Now,"  said  Marian,  "  let  us  have  some  music.  Mar- 
maduke:  will  you  sing  Uncle  Ned  for  us?  We  have 
not  heard  you  sing  for  ages." 

"  I  believe  it  is  more  than  three  years  since  that  abomi- 
nable concert  at  Wandsworth ;  and  I  have  not  heard  you 
sing  since,"  said  Elinor. 

"  I  forget  all  my  songs — havnt  sung  one  of  them  for 
months.  However,  here  goes!  Have  you  a  banjo  in 
the  house?" 

"  No,"  said  Marian.  "  I  will  play  an  accompaniment 
for  you." 

"All  right.  See  here:  you  need  only  play  these  three 
chords.  When  one  sounds  wrong,  play  another.  Youll 
learn  it  in  a  moment." 

Marmaduke's  voice  was  not  so  fresh,  nor  his  fun  so 
spontaneous,  as  at  Wandsworth;  but  they  were  not 
critical  enough  to  appreciate  the  difference :  they  laughed 
like  children  at  him.  Elinor  was  asked  to  play;  but 
she  would  not:  she  had  renounced  that  folly,  she  said. 
Then,  at  Douglas's  request,  Marian  sang,  in  memory 
of  Wandsworth,  "  Rose,  softly  blooming."  When  she 
had  finished,  Elinor  asked  for  some  old  melodies,  know- 
ing that  Marian  liked  these  best.  So  she  began  gaily 
with  The  Oak  and  the  Ash  and  Robin  Adair.  After 
that,  finding  both  herself  and  the  others  in  a  more  pa- 
thetic vein,  she  sang  them  The  Bailiff's  Daughter  of 
Islington,  and  The  Banks  of  Allan  Water,  at  the  end  of 
which  Marmaduke's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  the  rest 

289 


The   Irrational   Knot 

sat  quite  still.  She  paused  for  a  minute,  and  then 
broke  the  silence  with  Auld  Robin  Gray,  which  affected 
even  Douglas,  who  had  no  ear.  As  she  sang  the  last 
strain,  the  click  of  a  latchkey  was  heard  from  without. 
Instantly  she  rose;  closed  the  pianoforte  softly;  and  sat 
down  at  some  distance  from  it.  Her  action  was  reflected 
by  a  change  in  their  behavior.  They  remembered  that 
they  were  not  at  home,  and  became  more  or  less  uneasily 
self-conscious.  Elinor  was  the  least  disturbed.  Conolly's 
first  glance  on  entering  was  at  the  piano :  his  next  went 
in  search  of  his  wife. 

"Ah !  "  he  said,  surprised.  "  I  thought  somebody  was 
singing." 

"  Oh  dear  no !  "  said  Elinor  drily.  "  You  must  have 
been  mistaken." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  he,  smiling.  "  But  I  have  been 
listening  carefully  at  the  window  for  ten  minutes ;  and  I 
certainly  dreamt  that  I  heard  Auld  Robin  Gray." 

Marian  blushed.  Conolly  did  not  seem  to  have  been 
moved  by  the  song.  He  was  alert  and  loquacious :  before 
he  had  finished  his  greeting  and  apology  to  Douglas,  they 
all  felt  as  little  sentimental  as  they  had  ever  done  in  their 
lives.  Marian,  after  asking  whether  he  had  dined,  be- 
came silent,  and  dropped  the  pretty  airs  of  command 
which,  as  hostess,  she  had  worn  before. 

"  Have  you  any  news  ? "  said  Marmaduke  at  last. 
"  Douglas  knows  the  whole  business.  We  are  all  friends 
here." 

"  Only  what  we  expected,"  said  Conolly.  "Affairs  are 
exactly  as  they  were.  I  called  to-day  at  her  address " 

"  How  did  you  get  it  ?  "  said  Marmaduke. 

"  I  wrote  for  it  to  her  at  the  theatre." 

"And  did  she  send  it?" 

290 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  Of  course.  But  she  did  not  give  me  any  encourage- 
ment to  call  on  her,  and,  in  fact,  evidently  did  not  want 
to  see  me.  Her  appearance  has  altered  very  much  for 
the  worse.  She  is  a  confirmed  dipsomaniac;  and  she 
knows  it.  I  advised  her  to  abstain  in  future.  She  asked 
me,  in  her  sarcastic,  sisterly  way,  whether  I  had  any 
other  advice  to  give  her.  I  told  her  that  if  she  meant  to 
go  on,  her  proper  course  was  to  purchase  a  hogshead  of 
brandy;  keep  it  by  her  side;  and  condense  the  process  of 
killing  herself,  which  may  at  present  take  some  years, 
into  a  few  days." 

"  Oh,  Ned,  you  did  not  really  say  Lhat  to  her !  "  said 
Marian. 

"  I  did  indeed.  The  shocking  part  of  the  affair  is. 
not,  as  you  seem  to  think,  my  giving  the  advice,  but  that 
it  should  be  the  very  best  advice  I  could  have  given." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  would  have  said  so." 

"  Most  likely  not,"  said  Conolly,  with  a  smile.  "  You 
would  have  said  something  much  prettier.  But  dipso- 
mania is  not  one  of  the  pretty  things  of  life;  nor  can 
it  by  any  stretch  of  benevolent  hypocrisy  be  made  to 
pass  as  one.  When  Susanna  and  I  get  talking,  we  do 
not  waste  time  in  trying  to  spare  one  another's  feelings. 
If  we  did,  we  should  both  see  through  the  attempt  and 
be  very  impatient  of  it." 

"  Did  she  tell  you  what  she  intends  to  do  ? "  said 
Marmaduke. 

"  She  has  accepted  an  American  engagement.  When 
that  draws  to  a  close,  it  will,  she  says,  be  time  enough 
for  her  to  consider  her  next  step.  But  she  has  no  in- 
tention of  leaving  the  stage  until  she  is  compelled." 

"  Has  she  any  intention  of  reforming  her  habits  ? " 
said  Elinor,  bluntly. 

291 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"  I  should  say  every  intention,  but  no  prospect  of 
doing  so.  Dipsomaniacs  are  always  intending  to  reform; 
but  they  rarely  succeed.  Has  Lucy  been  put  to  bed  ?  " 

"  Lucy  is  in  disgrace,"  said  Elinor.  Marian  looked 
at  her  apprehensively. 

"  In  disgrace !  "  said  Conolly,  more  seriously.  "  How 
so?" 

Elinor  described  what  had  taken  place  in  the  garden. 
When  she  told  how  the  child  had  disregarded  Marian's 
appeal,  Conolly  laughed. 

"  Lucy  has  no  sense  of  how  pretty  she  would  have 
looked  toddling  in  obediently  because  her  aunt  asked 
her  to,"  he  said.  "  She  is,  like  all  children,  very  practi- 
cal, and  will  not  assist  in  getting  up  amiable  little  scenes 
without  good  reason  rendered." 

Elinor  glanced  at  Marian,  and  saw  that  though  Doug- 
las was  speaking  to  her  in  a  low  voice,  she  was  listening 
nervously  to  her  husband.  So  she  said  sharply,  "  It  is 
a  pity  you  were  not  here  to  tell  us  what  to  do." 

"Apparently  it  is,"  said  Conolly,  complacently. 

"  What  would  you  have  done  ?  "  said  Marian  sud- 
denly, interrupting  Douglas. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Conolly,  looking  round  at  her  in 
surprise,  "  I  should  have  answered  her  question — told 
her  what  she  was  wanted  for.  If  I  asked  you  to  do 
anything,  and  you  enquired  why,  you  would  be  extremely 
annoyed  if  I  answered,  '  because  I  ask  you.' " 

"  I  would  not  ask  why,"  said  Marian.     "  I  would  do  it." 

"  That  would  be  very  nice  of  you,"  said  Conolly ;  "  but 
you  cannot  expect  such  a  selfish,  mistrustful,  and  curious 
animal  as  a  little  child  to  be  equally  kind  and  confiding. 
Lucy  is  too  acute  not  to  have  learned  long  since  that 

292 


The  Irrational  Knot 

grown  people  systematically  impose  on  the  credulity  and 
helplessness  of  children." 

"  Thats  true,"  said  Elinor,  reluctantly.  Marian  turned 
away  and  quietly  resumed  her  conversation  with  Douglas. 
After  a  minute  she  strolled  with  him  into  the  garden, 
whither  Marmaduke  had  already  retired  to  smoke. 

"  Has  the  evening  been  a  pleasant  one,  Miss  Mc- 
Quinch  ?  "  said  Conolly,  left  alone  with  her. 

"  Yes:  we  have  had  a  very  pleasant  evening  indeed. 
We  played  chess  and  e carte;  and  we  all  agreed  to  make 
old  times  of  it.  Marmaduke  sang  for  us;  and  Marian 
had  us  nearly  in  tears  with  those  old  ballads  of  hers." 

"And  then  I  came  in  and  spoiled  it  all.    Eh  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.    Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"  Merely  a  mischievous  impulse  to  say  something  true : 
jealousy,  perhaps,  because  I  missed  being  here  earlier. 
You  think,  then,  that  if  I  had  been  here,  the  evening 
would  have  been  equally  pleasant,  and  Marian  equally 
happy  in  her  .singing?  " 

"  Dont  you  like  Marian's  singing  ?  " 

"  Could  you  not  have  refrained  from  that  most  indis- 
creet question  ?  " 

"  I  ought  to  have.  It  came  out  unawares.  Do  not 
answer  it." 

"  That  would  make  matters  worse.  And  there  is  no 
reason  whatever  why  the  plain  truth  should  not  be  told. 
When  I  was  a  child  I  heard  every  day  better  perform- 
ances than  Marian's.  She  believes  there  is  something 
pretty  and  good  in  music,  and  patronizes  it  accordingly 
to  the  best  of  her  ability.  I  do  not  like  to  hear  music 
patronized ;  and  when  Marian,  lovely  as  she  is,  gives  her 
pretty  renderings  of  songs  which  I  have  heard  a  hun- 
dred times  from  singers  who  knew  what  they  were  about, 


The   Irrational   Knot 

then,  though  I  admire  her  as  I  must  always,  my  admi- 
ration is  rather  increased  than  otherwise  when  she  stops ; 
because  then  I  am  no  longer  conscious  of  a  deficiency 
which  even  my  unfortunate  sister  could  supply." 

"  Your  criticism  of  her  singing  sounds  more  sincere 
than  your  admiration  of  her  loveliness.  I  am  not  musi- 
cian enough  to  judge.  All  I  know  is  that  her  singing 
is  good  enough  for  me." 

"  I  know  you  are  displeased  because  it  is  not  good 
enough  for  me;  but  how  can  I  help  myself?  Poor 
Marian " 

"  Do  hush !  "  said  Elinor.     "  Here  she  is." 

"  You  need  not  be  in  such  a  hurry,  Duke,"  said  Marian. 
"  What  can  it  matter  to  you  how  late  you  get  back?  " 

"  No,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  Ive  got  to  write  home. 
The  governor  is  ill ;  and  my  mammy  will  send  me  a  five- 
sheet  sermon  if  I  neglect  writing  to-night.  You  will 
keep  Lucy  for  another  week,  wont  you?  Box  her  ears 
if  she  gives  you  any  cheek.  She  wants  it:  she's  been 
spoiled." 

"  If  we  find  we  can  do  no  better  than  that  with  her, 
we  shall  hand  her  back  to  you,"  said  Conolly.  Then 
the  visitors  took  their  leave.  Marian  gently  pressed 
Douglas's  hand  and  looked  into  his  eyes  as  he  bade  her 
farewell.  Elinor,  seeing  this,  glanced  uneasily  at  Con- 
olly, and  unexpectedly  met  his  eye.  There  was  a  gleam 
of  cynical  intelligence  in  it  that  did  not  reassure  her. 
A  few  minutes  later  she  went  to  bed,  leaving  the  couple 
alone  together.  Conolly  looked  at  his  wife  for  a  moment 
with  an  amused  expression;  but  she  closed  her  lips  irre- 
sponsively,  and  went  to  the  table  for  a  book  which  she 
wanted  to  bring  upstairs.  She  would  have  gone  with- 
out a  word  had  he  not  spoken  to  her. 

294 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Marian?  Douglas  is  in  love  with  you." 

She  blushed;  thought  a  moment;  and  said  quietly, 
"  Very  well.  I  shall  not  ask  him  to  come  again." 

"Why?" 

She  colored  more  vividly  and  suddenly,  and  said,  "  I 
thought  you  cared.  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  My  dear,"  he  replied,  amiably;  "  if  you  exclude  every- 
body who  falls  in  love  with  you,  we  shall  have  no  one  in 
the  house  but  blind  men." 

"  And  do  you  like  men  to  be  in  love  with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes.  It  makes  the  house  pleasant  for  them ;  it  makes 
them  attentive  to  you;  and  it  gives  you  great  power  for 
good.  When  I  was  a  romantic  boy,  any  good  woman 
could  have  made  a  saint  of  me.  Let  them  fall  in  love 
with  you  as  much  as  they  please.  Afterwards  they  will 
seek  wives  according  to  a  higher  standard  than  if  they 
had  never  known  you.  But  do  not  return  the  compli- 
ment, or  your  influence  will  become  an  evil  one." 

"  Ned:  I  had  not  intended  to  tell  you  this;  but  now  I 
will.  Sholto  Douglas  not  only  loves  me,  but  he  told  me 
so  to-day." 

"Of  course.  A  man  always  does  tell  it,  sooner  or 
later." 

Marian  sat  down  on  the  sofa  and  looked  at  him  for 
some  time  gravely  and  a  little  wistfully.  "  I  think,"  she 
said,  "  I  should  feel  very  angry  if  any  woman  made  such 
a  confession  to  you." 

"A  Christian  British  lady  does  not  readily  forgive  a 
breach  of  convention;  nor  a  woman  an  invasion  of  her 
privileges,  even  when  they  have  become  a  burden  to  her." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  she  said,  rising. 

"  Marian,"  he  said,  looking  straight  at  her;  "  are  you 
dissatisfied  ?  " 

295 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  What  reason  have  I  to—" 

"  Never  mind  the  reasons.     Are  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  she,  steadfastly. 

He  smifed  indulgently ;  pressed  her  hand  for  a  moment 
against  his  cheek;  and  went  out  for  the  short  walk  he 
was  accustomed  to  take  before  retiring. 


296 


CHAPTER   XV 

IN  October  Marian  was  at  Sark,  holiday  making  at 
the  house  of  Hardy  McQuinch's  brother,  who  had 
recently  returned  to  England  with  a  fortune  made 
in  Australia.  Conolly,  having  the  house  at  Holland 
Park  to  himself,  fitted  a  spare  room  as  a  laboratory, 
and  worked  there  every  night.  One  evening,  returning 
home  alone  a  little  before  five  o'clock,  he  shut  himself 
into  this  laboratory,  and  had  just  set  to  work  when 
Armande,  the  housemaid,  interrupted  him. 

"  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax,  sir." 

Conolly  had  had  little  intercourse  with  Mrs.  Fairfax 
since  before  his  marriage,  when  he  had  once  shewn  her 
the  working  of  his  invention  at  Queen  Victoria  Street; 
and  as  Marian  had  since  resented  her  share  of  Douglas's 
second  proposal  by  avoiding  her  society  as  far  as  pos- 
sible without  actually  discontinuing  her  acquaintance, 
this  visit  was  a  surprise.  Conolly  looked  darkly  at  Ar- 
mande, and  went  to  the  drawing-room  without  a  word. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Conolly  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Fairfax, 
as  he  entered.  "  I  need  not  ask:  you  are  looking  so 
well.  Have  I  disturbed  you  ?  " 

"  You  have — most  agreeably.     Pray  sit  down." 

"  I  know  your  time  is  priceless.  I  should  never  have 
ventured  to  come,  but  that  I  felt  sure  you  would  like  to 
hear  all  the  news  from  Sark.  I  have  been  there  for 
the  last  fortnight.  Marian  told  me  to  call  on  you  the 
moment  I  returned." 

297 


The  Irrational   Knot 

"Yes,"  said  Conolly,  convinced  that  this  was  not 
true.  "  She  promised  to  do  so  in  her  last  letter." 

Mrs.  Fairfax,  on  the  point  of  publishing  a  few  sup- 
plementary fictions,  checked  herself,  and  looked  sus- 
piciously at  him. 

"  The  air  of  Sark  has  evidently  benefited  you,"  he 
said,  as  she  paused.  "  You  are  looking  very  well — I 
had  almost  said  charming." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  glanced  archly  at  him,  and  said,  "  Non- 
sense! but,  indeed,  the  trip  was  absolutely  necessary 
for  me.  I  should  hardly  have  been  alive  had  I  remained 
at  work ;  and  poor  Willie  McQuinch  was  bent  on  having 
me." 

"  He  has  been  described  to  me  as  an  inveterate  lion 
hunter." 

"  It  is  not  at  all  pleasant,  I  assure  you,  to  be  persecuted 
with  invitations  from  people  who  wish  to  see  a  real  live 
novelist.  But  William  McQuinch's  place  at  Sark  is 
really  palatial.  He  is  called  Sarcophagus  on  account 
of  his  wealth.  A  great  many  people  whom  he  knew 
were  staying  in  the  island,  besides  those  in  the  house 
with  us.  Marian  was  the  beauty  of  the  place.  How 
every  one  admires  her!  Why  do  you  not  go  down, 
Mr.  Conolly?" 

"  I  am  too  busy.  Besides,  it  will  do  Marian  good 
to  be  rid  of  me  for  a  while." 

"Absurd,  Mr.  Conolly!  You  should  not  leave  her 
there  by  herself." 

"By  herself!     Why,  is  not  the  place  full?" 

"  Yes ;  but  I  do  not  mean  that.  There  is  nobody  be- 
longing to  her  there." 

"  You  forget.  Miss  McQuinch  is  her  bosom  friend. 
There  is  Marmaduke,  her  cousin;  and  his  mother,  her 

298 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Aunt  Dora.  Then,  is  there  not  Mr.  Sholto  Douglas, 
one  of  her  oldest  and  most  attached  friends  ?  " 

"  Oh !     Is  Mr.  Douglas  in  charge  of  her  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  he  will  take  charge  of  her,  if  she  is  over- 
taken by  her  second  childhood  whilst  he  is  there.  Mean- 
while, she  is  in  charge  of  herself,  is  she  not?  And  there 
is  hardly  any  danger  of  her  feeling  lonely." 

"  No.  Sholto  Douglas  will  provide  against  that." 

"  Your  opinion  confirms  the  accounts  I  have  had  from 
other  sources.  It  appears  that  Mr.  Douglas  is  very 
attentive  to  my  wife." 

"  Very,  indeed,  Mr.  Conolly.  You  must  not  think 
that  I  am  afraid  of  anything — anything — " 

"Anything?" 

"Well — Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean.  Anything  wrong. 
At  least,  not  exactly  wrong,  but — " 

"Anything  undomestic." 

"  Yes.  You  see,  Marian's  position  is  a  very  difficult 
one.  She  is  so  young  and  so  good  looking  that  she  is 
very  much  observed ;  and  it  seems  so  strange  her  being 
without  her  husband." 

"  Pretty  ladies  whose  husbands  are  never  seen,  often 
get  talked  about  in  the  world,  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  mean.  How  cleverly  you  get 
everything  out  of  me,  Mr.  Conolly !  I  called  here  with- 
out the  faintest  idea  of  alluding  to  Marian's  situation; 
and  now  you  have  made  me  say  all  sorts  of  things. 
What  a  fortune  you  would  have  made  at  the  bar !  " 

"  I  must  apologize,  I  did  not  mean  to  cross-examine' 
you.  Naturally,  of  course,  you  would  not  like  to  make 
me  uneasy  about  Marian." 

"  It  is  the  very  last  thing  I  should  desire.     But  now 

299 


The   Irrational   Knot 

that  it  has  slipped  out,  I  really  think  you  ought  to  go 
to  Sark." 

"  Indeed !  I  rather  infer  that  I  should  be  very  much 
in  the  way." 

"  The  more  reason  for  you  to  go,  Mr.  Conolly." 

"  Not  at  all,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  The  attentions  of 
A  husband  are  stale,  unsuited  to  holiday  time.  Picture 
to  yourself  my  arrival  at  Sark  with  the  tender  assurance 
in  my  mouth,  '  Marian,  I  love  you.'  She  would  reply, 
'  So  you  ought.  Am  I  not  your  wife  ? '  The  same  ad- 
vance from  another — Mr.  Douglas,  for  instance — would 
affect  her  quite  differently,  and  much  more  pleasantly." 

"  Mr.  Conolly;  is  this  indifference,  or  supreme  con- 
fidence ?  " 

"  Neither  of  these  conjugal  claptraps.  I  merely  de- 
sire that  Marian  should  enjoy  herself  as  much  as  pos- 
sible; and  the  more  a  woman  is  admired,  the  happier 
she  is.  Perhaps  you  think  that,  in  deference  to  the 
general  feeling  in  such  matters,  I  should  become  jeal- 
ous." 

Mrs.  Fairfax  again  looked  doubtfully  at  him.  "  I 
cannot  make  you  out  at  all,  Mr.  Conolly,"  she  said  sub- 
missively. "  I  hope  I  have  not  offended  you." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  take  it  that  having  observed 
certain  circumstances  which  seemed  to  threaten  the  wel- 
fare of  one  very  dear  to  you  (as,  I  am  aware,  Marian  is), 
the  trouble  they  caused  you  found  unpremeditated  ex- 
pression in  the  course  of  a  conversation  with  me."  Con- 
olly beamed  at  her,  as  if  he  thought  this  rather  neatly 
turned. 

"  Exactly  so.  But  I  do  not  wish  you  to  think  that  I 
have  observed  anything  particular." 

"  Certainly  not.     Still,  you  think  there  would  be  no 

300 


The   Irrational   Knot 

harm  in  my  writing  to  Marian  to  say  that  her  behavior 
has  attracted  your  notice,  and " 

"  Good  heavens,  Mr.  Conolly,  you  must  not  mention 
me  in  the  matter!  You  are  so  innocent — at  least  so 
frank,  so  workmanlike,  if  I  may  say  so,  in  your  way  of 
dealing  with  things !  I  would  not  have  Marian  know 
what  I  have  said — I  really  did  not  notice  anything — for 
worlds.  You  had  better  not  write  at  all,  but  just  go 
down  as  if  you  went  merely  to  enjoy  yourself;  and  dont 
on  any  account  let  Marian  suspect  that  you  have  heard 
anything.  Goodness  knows  what  mischief  you  might 
make,  in  your — your  ingenuousness !  " 

"  But  I  should  have  thought  that  the  opinion  of  an 
old  and  valued  friend  like  yourself  would  have  special 
weight  with  her." 

"  You  know  nothing  about  it.  Clever  engineer  as  you 
are,  you  do  not  understand  the  little  wheels  by  which 
our  great  machine  of  society  is  worked." 

"  True,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax,"  he  rejoined,  echoing  the 
cadence  of  her  sentence.  "  Educated  as  a  mere  mechanic, 
I  am  still  a  stranger  to  the  elegancies  of  life.  I  usually 
depend  on  Marian  for  direction ;  but  since  you  think  that 
it  would  be  injudicious  to  appeal  to  her  in  the  present 
instance " 

"  Out  of  the  question,  Mr.  Conolly." 

" — I  must  trust  to  your  guidance  in  the  matter.  What 
do  you  suggest  ?  " 

Mrs.  Fairfax  was  about  to  reply,  when  the  expression 
which  she  habitually  wore  like  a  mask  in  society,  wavered 
and  broke.  Her  lip  trembled:  her  eyes  filled  with  tears: 
she  rose  with  a  sniff  that  was  half  a  sob.  When  she 
spoke,  her  voice  was  sincere  for  the  first  time,  and  at 

301 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  sound  of  it  Conolly's  steely,  hard  manner  melted, 
and  his  inhuman  self-possession  vanished. 

"  You  think,"  she  said,  "  that  I  came  here  to  make 
mischief.  I  did  not.  Marian  is  nothing  to  me:  she 
does  not  even  like  me;  but  I  dont  want  to  see  her  ruin 
herself  merely  because  she  is  too  inexperienced  to  know 
when  she  is  well  off.  I  have  had  to  fight  my  way  in 
London;  and  I  know  what  it  is,  and  what  the  world  is. 
She  is  not  fit  to  take  charge  of  herself.  Good-bye,  Mr. 
Conolly :  you  are  a  great  deal  too  young  yourself  to  know 
the  danger,  for  all  your  cleverness.  You  may  tell  her 
that  I  came  here  and  gossipped  against  her,  if  you  like. 
She  will  never  speak  to  me  again;  but  if  it  saves  her, 
I  dont  care.  Good-bye." 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Fairfax,"  he  said,  with  entire  frank- 
ness, "  I  am  now  deeply  and  sincerely  obliged  to  you." 
And  in  proof  that  he  was  touched,  he  kissed  her  hand 
with  the  ease  and  grace  of  a  man  who  had  been  carefully 
taught  how  to  do  it.  Mrs.  Fairfax  recovered  herself 
and  almost  blushed  as  he  went  with  her  to  the  door, 
chatting  easily  about  the  weather  and  the  Addison  Road 
trains. 

She  was  not  the  last  visitor  that  evening.  She  had 
hardly  been  fifteen  minutes  gone  when  the  Rev.  George 
presented  himself,  and  was  conducted  to  the  laboratory, 
where  he  found  Conolly,  with  his  coat  off,  surrounded 
by  apparatus.  The  glowing  fire,  comfortable  cha'irs, 
and  preparations  for  an  evening  meal,  gladdened  him 
more  than  the  presence  of  his  brother-in-law,  with  whom 
he  never  felt  quite  at  ease. 

"  You  wont  mind  my  fiddling  with  these  machines 
while  I  talk,"  said  Conolly. 

"  Not  at  all,  not  at  all.     I  shall  witness  your  operations 

302 


The   Irrational   Knot 

with  great  interest.  You  must  not  think  that  the  won- 
ders of  science  are  indifferent  to  me." 

"  So  you  are  going  on  to  Sark,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes.  May  I  ask  whether  you  will  be  persuaded  to 
come  ?  " 

"  No,  for  certain.     I  have  other  fish  to  fry  here." 

"  I  think  it  would  renovate  your  health  to  come  for 
a  few  days." 

"  My  health  is  always  right  as  long  as  I  have  work. 
Did  you  meet  Mrs.  Fairfax  outside?" 

"A — yes.     I  passed  her." 

"  You  spoke  to  her,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"A  few  words.     Yes." 

"Do  you  know  what  she  came  here  for?" 

"  No.  But  stay.  I  am  wrong.  She  mentioned  that 
she  came  for  a  book  she  lent  you." 

"  She  mentioned  what  was  not  true.  What  did  she 
say  to  you  about  Marian  ?  " 

"  Well,  she —  She  was  just  saying  that  it  is  perhaps 
as  well  that  I  should  go  down  to  Sark  at  once,  as  Marian 
is  quite  alone." 

The  clergyman  looked  so  guilty  as  he  said  this  that 
Conolly  laughed  outright  at  him.  "  You  mean,"  he  said, 
"  that  Marian  is  not  quite  alone.  Well,  very  likely 
Douglas  occupies  himself  a  good  deal  with  her.  If  so, 
there  may  be  some  busybody  or  another  down  there  fool 
enough  to  tell  her  that  people  are  talking  about  her. 
That  would  spoil  her  holiday ;  so  it  is  lucky  that  you  are 
going  down.  No  one  will  take  it  upon  themselves 
to  speak  to  her  when  you  are  there;  and  if  they  say 
anything  to  you,  you  can  let  it  in  at  one  ear  and  out 
at  the  other." 

303 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  That  is,  of  course,  unless  I  should  see  her  really 
acting  indiscreetly." 

"  I  had  better  tell  you  beforehand  what  you  will  see 
if  you  keep  your  eyes  open.  You  will  see  very  plainly 
that  Douglas  is  in  love  with  her.  Also  that  she  knows 
that  he  is  in  love  with  her.  In  fact,  she  told  me  so. 
And  you  will  see  she  rather  likes  it.  Every  married 
woman  requires  a  holiday  from  her  husband  occasion- 
ally, even  when  he  suits  her  perfectly." 

The  Rev.  George  stared.  "  If  I  follow  you  aright — 
I  am  not  sure  that  I  do — you  impute  to  Marian  the  sin 
of  entertaining  feelings  which  it  is  her  duty  to  repress." 

"  I  impute  no  sin  to  her.  You  might  as  well  tell  a 
beggar  that  he  has  no  right  to  be  hungry,  as  a  woman 
that  it  is  her  duty  to  feel  this  and  not  to  feel  that." 

"  But  Marian  has  been  educated  to  feel  only  in  ac- 
cordance with  her  duty." 

"  So  have  you.  How  does  it  work  ?  However,"  con- 
tinued Conolly,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  I  dont 
deny  that  Marian  shews  the  effects  of  her  education. 
They  are  deplorably  evident  in  all  her  conscientious 
actions." 

"  You  surprise  and  distress  me.  This  is  the  first  in- 
timation I  have  received  of  your  having  any  cause  to 
complain  of  Marian." 

"  Nonsense !  I  dont  complain  of  her.  But  what  you 
call  her  education,  as  far  as  I  can  make  it  out,  appears 
to  have  consisted  of  stuffing  her  with  lies,  and  making 
it  a  point  of  honor  with  her  to  believe  them  in  spite 
of  sense  and  reason.  The  sense  of  duty  that  rises  on  that 
sort  of  foundation  is  more  mischievous  than  downright 
want  of  principle.  I  dont  dispute  your  right,  you  who 
constitute  polite  society,  to  skin  over  all  the  ugly  facts 

304 


The   Irrational   Knot 

of  life.  But  to  make  your  daughters  believe  that  the 
skin  covers  healthy  flesh  is  a  crime.  Poor  Marian  thinks 
that  a  room  is  clean  when  all  the  dust  is  swept  out  of 
sight  under  the  furniture;  and  if  honest  people  rake  it 
out  to  bring  it  under  the  notice  of  those  whose  duty  it 
is  to  remove  it,  she  is  disgusted  with  them,  and  ten  to 
one  accuses  them  of  having  made  it  themselves.  She 
doesnt  know  what  sort  of  world  she  is  in,  thanks  to  the 
misrepresentations  of  those  who  should  have  taught  her. 
She  will  deceive  her  children  in  just  the  same  way,  if 
she  ever  has  any.  If  she  had  been  taught  the  truth  in 
her  own  childhood,  she  would  know  how  to  face  it,  and 
would  be  a  strong  woman  as  well  as  an  amiable  one. 
But  it  is  too  late  now.  The  truth  seems  natural  to  a 
child ;  but  to  a  grown  woman  or  man,  it  is  a  bitter  lesson 
in  the  learning,  though  it  may  be  invigorating  when  it 
is  well  mastered.  And  you  know  how  seldom  a  hard 
task  forced  on  an  unwilling  pupil  is  well  mastered." 

"  What  is  truth  ?  "  said  the  clergyman,  sententiously. 

"All  that  we  know,  Master  Pilate,"  retorted  Conolly 
with  a  laugh.  "And  we  know  a  good  deal.  It  may 
seem  small  in  comparison  with  what  we  dont  know;  but 
it  is  more  than  any  one  of  us  can  hold,  for  all  that.  We 
know,  for  instance,  that  the  world  was  not  planned  by 
a  sentimental  landscape  gardener.  If  Marian  ever  learns 
that — which  she  may,  although  I  am  neither  able  nor 
willing  to  teach  it  to  her — she  will  not  thank  those  who 
gave  her  so  much  falsehood  to  unlearn.  Until  then,  she 
will,  I  am  afraid,  do  little  else  than  lay  up  a  store  of  re- 
grets for  herself." 

"  This  is  very  strange.  We  always  looked  upon  Ma- 
rian as  an  exceptionally  amiable  girl." 

"  So  she  is,  unfortunately.     There  is  no  institution  so 

305 


The  Irrational   Knot 

villainous  but  she  will  defend  it ;  no  tyranny  so  oppressive 
but  she  will  make  a  virtue  of  submitting  to  it;  no  social 
cancer  so  venomous  but  she  will  shrink  from  cutting  it 
out,  and  plead  that  it  is  a  comfortable  thing,  and  much 
better  as  it  is.  She  knows  that  she  disobeyed  her  father, 
and  that  he  deserved  to  be  disobeyed;  yet  she  condemns 
other  women  who  are  disobedient,  and  stands  out  against 
Nelly  McQuinch  in  defence  of  the  unselfishness  of  pa- 
rental love.  She  knows  that  the  increased  freedom  of 
movement  allowed  to  her  as  a  married  woman  has  been 
healthy  for  her;  yet  she  looks  coldly  at  other  young 
women  who  assert  their  right  to  freedom,  and  are  not 
afraid  to  walk  through  the  streets  without  a  sheepdog, 
human  or  otherwise,  at  their  heels.  She  knows  that 
marriage  is  not  what  she  expected  it  to  be,  and  that  it 
gives  me  many  unfair  advantages  over  her;  and  she 
knows  also  that  ours  is  a  happier  marriage  than  most. 
Nevertheless  she  will  encourage  other  girls  to  marry; 
she  will  maintain  that  the  chain  which  galls  her  own 
wrists  so  often  is  a  string  of  honeysuckles;  and  if  a 
woman  identifies  herself  with  any  public  movement  for 
the  lightening  of  that  chain,  she  wont  allow  that  that 
woman  is  fit  to  be  admitted  into  decent  society.  There 
is  not  one  of  these  shams  to  which  she  clings  that  I 
would  not  like  to  take  by  the  throat  and  shake  the  life 
out  of ;  and  she  knows  it.  Even  in  that  she  has  not  the 
consistency  to  believe  me  wrong,  because  it  is  undutiful 
and  out  of  keeping  with  the  honeysuckles  to  lack  faith 
in  her  husband.  In  order  to  blind  herself  to  her  incon- 
sistencies, she  has  to  live  in  a  rose-colored  fog ;  and  what 
with  me  constantly,  in  spite  of  myself,  blowing  this  fog 
away  on  the  one  side,  and  the  naked  facts  of  her  every- 
day experience  as  constantly  letting  in  the  daylight  on 

306 


The  Irrational  Knot 

the  other,  she  must  spend  half  the  time  wondering 
whether  she  is  mad  or  sane.  Between  her  desire  to  do 
right  and  her  discoveries  that  it  generally  leads  her  to 
do  wrong,  she  passes  her  life  in  a  wistful  melancholy 
which  I  cant  dispel.  I  can  only  pity  her.  I  suppose  I 
could  pet  her;  but  I  hate  treating  a  woman  like  a  child: 
it  means  giving  up  all  hope  of  her  becoming  rational. 
She  may  turn  for  relief  any  day  either  to  love  or  religion ; 
and  for  her  own  sake  I  hope  she  will  choose  the  first. 
Of  the  two  evils,  it  is  the  least  permanent."  And  Con- 
olly,  having  disburdened  himself,  resumed  his  work 
without  any  pretence  of  waiting  for  the  clergyman's 
comments. 

"  Well,"  said  the  Rev.  George,  cautiously,  "  I  do  not 
think  I  have  quite  followed  your  opinions,  which  seem 
to  me  to  be  exactly  upside  down,  as  if  they  were  pro- 
jected upon  the  retina  of  your  mind's  eye — to  use  Shaks- 
pear's  happy  phrase — just  as  they  would  be  upon  your — 
your  real  eye,  you  know.  But  I  can  assure  you  that 
your  view  of  Marian  is  an  entirely  mistaken  one.  You 
seem  to  think  that  she  does  not  give  in  her  entire  ad- 
herence to  the  doctrines  of  the  Establishment.  This  is 
a  matter  which  I  venture  to  say  you  do  not  understand." 

"Admitted,"  interposed  Conolly,  hastily.  "  Here  is 
my  workman's  tea.  Are  you  fond  of  scones  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  know.  Anything — the  simplest  fare,  will 
satisfy  me." 

"So  it  does  me,  when  I  can  get  nothing  better.  Help 
yourself,  pray." 

Conolly  did  not  sit  down  to  the  meal,  but  worked 
whilst  the  clergyman  ate.  Presently  the  Rev.  George, 
warmed  by  the  fire  and  cheered  by  the  repast,  returned 
to  the  subject  of  his  host's  domestic  affairs, 

307 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Come,"  he  said,  "  I  am  sure  that  a  few  judicious 
words  would  lead  to  an  explanation  between  you  and 
Marian." 

"  I  also  think  that  a  few  words  might  do  so.  But  they 
would  not  be  judicious  words." 

"  Why  not?  Can  it  be  injudicious  to  restore  harmony 
in  a  household  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  that  would  not  be  the  effect  of  an  expla- 
nation, because  the  truth  is  not  likely  to  reconcile  us. 
If  I  were  to  explain  the  difficulty  to  a  man,  he  would 
argue.  But  Marian  would  just  infer  that  I  despised  her, 
and  nothing  else." 

"  Oh  no !  Oh  dear  no !  A  few  kind  words ;  an  ap- 
peal to  her  good  sense;  a  little  concession  on  both 
sides " 

"All  excellent  for  a  pair  estranged  by  a  flash  of  temper, 
or  a  mother-in-law,  or  a  trifle  of  jealousy,  or  too  many 
evenings  spent  at  the  club  on  the  man's  part,  or  too 
many  dances  with  a  gallant  on  the  woman's;  but  no 
good  for  us.  We  have  never  exchanged  unkind  words : 
there  are  no  concessions  to  be  made:  her  good  sense  is 
not  at  fault.  Besides,  these  few  kind  words  that  are 
supposed  to  be  such  a  sovereign  remedy  for  all  sorts  of 
domestic  understandings  are  generally  a  few  kind  fibs. 
If  I  told  them,  Marian  wouldnt  believe  them.  Fibs 
dont  make  lasting  truces  either.  No:  the  situation  is 
graver  than  you  think.  Just  suppose,  for  instance,  that 
you  undertake  to  restore  harmony,  as  you  call  it!  what 
will  you  say  to  her  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  would  depend  on  circumstances." 

"  But  you  know  the  circumstances  on  which  it  de- 
pends. How  would  you  begin  ?  " 

"  There  are  little  ways  of  approaching  delicate  sub- 

308 


The   Irrational   Knot 

jects  with  women.  For  instance,  I  might  say,  casually, 
that  it  was  a  pity  that  a  pair  so  happily  situated  as  you 
two  should  not  agree  perfectly." 

"  You  would  get  no  further;  for  Marian  would  never 
admit  that  we  do  not  agree.  She  does  not  know  what 
her  complaint  is,  and  therefore  feels  bound  in  honor 
to  maintain  that  she  has  nothing  to  complain  of.  She 
is  not  the  woman  to  cast  reproach  on  me  for  a  discontent 
she  cannot  explain.  Or,  if  she  could  explain  it,  how 
much  wiser  should  you  be?  I  have  explained;  and  you 
confess  you  cannot  understand  me.  The  difference  be- 
tween us  is  neither  her  fault  nor  mine;  and  all  the  ex- 
planations in  the  world  will  not  remove  it." 

"If  you  would  allow  me  to  appeal  to  her  religious 
duty " 

"  Religion !     She  doesnt  believe  in  it." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  clergyman,  unaffectedly 
shocked.  "  Surely,  surely " 

"  Listen.  To  me,  believing  in  a  doctrine  doesnt  mean 
holding  up  your  hand  and  saying,  '  Credo.'  It  means 
habitually  acting  on  the  assumption  that  the  doctrine 
is  true.  Marian  thinks  it  wrong  not  to  go  to  church ; 
and  she  will  hold  up  her  hand  and  cry  '  Credo '  to  the 
immortality  of  her  soul,  or  to  any  verse  in  the  New 
Testament.  The  shareholders  of  our  concern  in  the 
city  will  do  the  same.  But  do  they  or  she  ever  act  on 
the  assumption  that  they  are  immortal,  or  that  riches 
are  dross,  or  that  class  prejudice  is  damnable?  Never. 
They  dont  believe  it.  You  will  find  that  Marian  has 
been  thoroughly  trained  to  separate  her  practice  from  her 
religious  professions;  and  if  you  allude  to  the  inconsis- 
tency she  will  instinctively  feel  that  you  are  offending 
against  good  taste.  In  short,  her  '  Credo '  doesnt  mean 

309 


The   Irrational   Knot 

faith;  it  means  church-going,  which  is  practised  because 
it  is  respectable,  and  is  respectable  because  it  is  a  habit 
of  the  upper  caste.  But  church-going  is  church-going; 
and  business  is  business,  as  Marian  will  soon  let  you 
know  if  you  meddle  with  her  business.  However,  we 
need  not  argue  about  that:  we  know  one  another's  views 
and  can  agree  to  differ." 

"  I  should  be  false  to  my  duty  as  a  Christian  priest 
if  I  made  any  such  agreement." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but,  at  any  rate,  we  cant  spend  all  our 
lives  over  the  same  argument.  No,  as  I  was  saying, 
take  my  advice,  and  let  Marian  alone." 

"  But  what  do  you  intend  to  do,  then  ?  " 

"  What  can  I  do  but  wait  ?  Experience  must  wear 
out  some  of  her  illusions.  She  will  at  least  find  out  that 
she  is  no  worse  off  than  other  women,  and  better  off  than 
some  of  them.  Since  the  job  cannot  be  undone,  we  must 
try  how  making  the  best  of  it  will  work.  I  am  pretty 
hopeful  myself.  How  are  affairs  getting  on  at  your 
chapel?  I  am  told  that  the  sermons  of  your  locum 
tenens  send  the  congregation  asleep." 

"  He  is  not  at  his  best  in  the  pulpit.  A  good  fellow ! 
a  most  loving  man  I  but  not  able  to  grapple  with  a  large 
congregation.  After  all,  I  am  obliged  to  confess  that 
very  few  of  our  cloth  are.  The  power  of  preaching  is 
quite  an  exceptional  one;  and  it  is  a  gift  as  well  as  a 
trust.  I  humbly  believe  that  the  power  of  the  tongue 
comes  of  a  higher  ordination  than  the  bishop's." 

Nothing  further  was  said  about  Marian.  The  clergy- 
man's object  in  visiting  Conolly  was,  it  presently  ap- 
peared, to  borrow  a  portmanteau.  When  he  was  gone, 
Conolly  returned  to  the  laboratory,  and  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing letter: 

310 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"  My  dear  Marian 

"  I  have  just  had  two  unexpected  visits,  one 
from  Mrs.  Fairfax,  and  one  from  George.  Mrs.  L.  F. 
said  you  asked  her  to  call  and  give  me  the  news.  When 
I  told  her,  without  blushing,  that  you  had  written  to  pre- 
pare me  for  her  visit,  she  was  rather  put  out,  justly 
thinking  me  to  mean  that  I  did  not  believe  her.  As 
this  is  fully  the  thirty-sixth  falsehood  in  which  you  have 
detected  good  Mrs.  F.,  I  fear  you  will  be  compelled,  in 
spite  of  your  principle  of  believing  the  best  of  everybody, 
to  regard  her  in  future  as  a  not  invariably  accurate 
woman.  She  came  with  the  object  of  making  me  go 
down  to  Sark.  You  yyere  so  young  and  so  much  ad- 
mired: Mr.  Douglas  was  so  attentive:  you  should  not  be 
left  entirely  alone,  and  so  forth.  You  will  be  angry  with 
her;  but  she  thinks  Douglas  so  irresistible  that  she  is 
genuinely  anxious  about  you:  I  believe  she  really  meant 
well  this  time.  As  to  our  reverend  brother,  his  port- 
manteau burst  in  the  train  coming  from  Edinburgh;  so 
he  came  to  borrow  mine,  having  apparently  resolved  to 
wear  out  those  of  all  his  friends  before  buying  a  new 
one.  Unfortunately,  he  met  Mrs.  F.  down  the  road-, 
and  she  urged  him  to  go  down  to  Sark  just  as  she  had 
urged  me.  Now  as  George  is  incapable  of  holding  his 
tongue  when  he  ought,  I  feel  sure  that  unless  I  tell  you 
what  Mrs.  F.  said,  he  will  anticipate  me.  Otherwise  I 
should  not  have  mentioned  it  until  your  return,  for  fear 
of  annoying  you  and  spoiling  your  visit.  So  if  his  rev- 
erence hints  or  lectures,  you  will  know  what  he  means 
and  not  heed  him.  Mrs.  F's  confidences  have  prob- 
ably not  been  confined  to  me;  but  were  I  in  your 
place,  I  should  not  make  the  slightest  change  in  my  con- 
duct in  consequence.  At  all  events,  if  you  feel  con- 
strained to  display  any  sudden  accession  of  reserve  toward 
Douglas,  tell  him  the  reason ;  because  if  you  dont,  he  will 
ascribe  the  change  to  coquetry. 

"  I  have  turned  the  spare  room  on  the  first  floor  into 
a  laboratory,  and  am  sitting  in  it  now.     I'm  thinking  of 


The  Irrational  Knot 

fitting  it  up  like  a  studio,  and  having  private  views  of 
my  inventions,  as  Scott  has  of  his  pictures.  Parson's 
man  came  with  some  flowers  the  other  day,  and  informed 
me  that  three  balls,  to  the  first  of  which  he  was  invited, 
took  place  in  the  house  while  I  was  away.  One  or  two 
trifling  dilapidations,  and  the  fact  that  somebody  has 
been  tampering  with  the  locks  of  the  organ  and  piano, 
dispose  me  to  believe  this  tale.  Parson's  man  declares 
that  he  was  too  virtuous  to  come  to  the  two  last  enter- 
tainments after  finding  out  that  the  first  was  a  clandes- 
tine one ;  but  I  believe  he  made  himself  disagreeable,  and 
was  not  invited.  Probably  he  quarrelled  with  some 
military  follower  of  Armande's;  for  he  was  particularly 
bitter  on  the  subject  of  a  common  soldier  making  free 
in  a  gentleman's  house.  I  have  not  said  anything  to 
the  two  culprits;  but  I  have  contrived  to  make  them 
suspect  that  I  know  all;  and  they  now  do  their  duty 
with  trembling  diligence.  Some  man  sat  on  the  little 
walnut  table  and  broke  it;  but  no  other  damage  worth 
mentioning  has  been  done.  The  table  was  absurdly  re- 
paired with  a  piece  of  twine,  and  pushed  into  the  recess 
between  the  organ  and  the  front  window,  whence  I  some- 
times amuse  myself  by  the  experiment  of  pulling  it  into 
broad  daylight.  It  is  always  pushed  back  again  before 
I  return  in  the  evening. 

"  How  are  you  off  for  money  ?  I  have  plenty  of  loose 
cash  just  now.  Madame  called  last  Monday,  and  asked 
Matilda,  who  opened  the  door,  when  you  would  be  back. 
Thereupon  I  interviewed  her.  I  must  say  she  is  loyal 
to  her  clients;  for  I  had  great  difficulty  in  extracting  her 
bill,  which  was,  of  course,  what  she  called  about.  She 
evidently  recognizes  the  necessity  of  keeping  husbands 
in  the  dark  in  such  matters.  One  of  the  items  was  for 
the  lace  on  your  maccaroni-colored  body,  which,  as  I 
chanced  to  remember,  you  supplied  yourself.  After  a 
brief  struggle  she  deducted  it;  so  I  paid  her  the  bal- 
ance: only  35£  135.  gd. 

"  When  are  you  coming  back  to  me  ?  After  Sark  I 
fear  you  will  find  home  a  little  dull.  Nevertheless,  I 

312 


The  Irrational   Knot 

should  like  to  see  you  again.     Come  back  before  Christ- 
mas, at  any  rate. 

"  Yours,  dear  Marian,  in  solitude, 

"  NED." 

The  answer  came  two  days  later  than  return  of  post, 
and  ran  thus: 

"  Melbourne  House,  Sark, 
"  Sunday. 

"  My  dear  Ned 

"  How  very  provoking  about  the  servants !  I 
do  not  mind  Matilda  so  much;  but  I  do  think  it  hard 
that  we  could  not  depend  on  Armande,  considering  all 
the  kindness  we  have  shewn  her.  I  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  she  would  have  acted  so  badly  unless  she  were 
led  away  by  Matilda,  whom  I  will  pack  off  the  moment 
I  return.  As  to  Armande,  I  will  give  her  another 
chance;  but  she  shall  have  a  sharp  talking  to.  I  am 
quite  sure  that  a  great  deal  more  mischief  has  been 
done  than  you  noticed.  If  the  carpet  was  danced  on 
for  three  nights  by  men  in  heavy  boots,  it  must  be 
in  ribbons.  It  is  really  too  bad.  I  do  not  want  any 
money.  Indeed  the  twenty  pounds  you  sent  me  last  was 
quite  unnecessary,  as  I  have  nearly  sixteen  left.  What 
a  rogue  Madame  is  to  try  and  make  you  pay  for  my  lace ! 
I  am  sorry  you  paid  the  bill.  She  had  no  business  to 
call  for  her  money:  she  is  never  paid  so  soon  by  anybody. 
We  have  had  great  fun  down  here.  It  has  been  one 
continual  garden  party  all  through;  and  the  weather  is 
still  lovely.  Mr.  McQuinch  is  very  colonial;  but  I  think 
his  ways  make  the  house  pleasanter  than  if  he  were  still 
English.  Carbury  is  quite  stupid  in  comparison  to  this 
place.  I  have  danced  more  than  I  ever  did  in  my  life 
before ;  and  now  we  are  so  tired  of  frivolity  that  if  any 
one  ventures  to  strum  a  waltz  or  propose  a  game,  we  all 
protest.  We  tried  to  get  up  some  choral  music;  but  it 
was  a  failure.  On  Friday,  George,  who  is  looked  on  as 
a  great  man  here,  was  asked  to  give  us  a  Shakespeare 
reading.  He  was  only  too  glad  to  be  asked ;  for  he  had 

313 


The   Irrational   Knot 

heard  Simonton,  the  actor,  read  at  a  bazaar  in  Scotland, 
and  was  full  of  Richard  the  Third  in  consequence.  He 
was  not  very  bad;  but  his  imitation  of  Simonton  was  so 
obvious  and  so  queerly  mixed  with  his  own  churchy  style 
that  he  seemed  rather  monotonous  and  affected.  At  least 
I  thought  so.  I  was  dreadfully  uncomfortable  during 
the  reading  because  of  Marmaduke,  who  behaved  scan- 
dalously. There  were  some  schoolboys  present;  and  he 
not  only  encouraged  them  to  misbehave  themselves,  but 
was  worse  than  any  of  them  himself.  At  last  he  pre- 
tended to  be  overcome  by  the  heat,  and  went  out  of  the 
room,  to  my  great  relief ;  but  when  the  passage  about  the 
early  village  cock  came,  he  crew  outside  the  door,  where 
he  had  been  waiting  expressly  to  do  it.  Nobody  could 
help  laughing;  and  the  boys  screamed  so  that  Mr.  Mc- 
Quinch  took  two  of  them  out  by  the  collar.  I  believe  he 
was  glad  of  the  excuse  to  go  out  and  laugh  himself. 
George  was  very  angry,  and  no  wonder !  He  will  hardly 
speak  to  Marmaduke,  who,  of  course,  denies  all  know- 
ledge of  the  interruption ;  but  George  knows  better.  All 
the  Hardy  McOuinches  are  down  here.  Uncle  Hardy  is 
rather  stooped  from  rheumatism.  Nelly  is  now  the  chief 
personage  in  the  family:  Lydia  and  Jane  are  nowhere 
beside  her.  They  are  good-humored,  bouncing  girls; 
but  they  are  certainly  not  brilliant.  I  hope  it  is  not 
Aunt  Dora's  walnut  table  that  is  broken.  Was  it  not 
mean  of  Parson's  man  to  tell  on  Armande?  I  think, 
since  you  have  plenty  of  loose  cash,  we  might  venture 
on  a  set  of  those  curtains  we  saw  at  Protheroe's,  for 
the  drawing-room.  I  can  easily  use  the  ones  that  are 
there  now  for  portieres. 

"  You  must  not  think  that  I  have  written  this  all  at 
once.  I  shall  be  able  to  finish  to-day,  as  it  is  Sunday, 
and  I  have  made  an  excuse  to  stay  away  from  church. 
George  is  to  preach;  and  somehow  I  never  feel  toward 
the  service  as  I  ought  when  he  officiates.  I  know  you 
will  laugh  at  this. 

"  The  first  part  of  your  letter  must  have  a  paragraph 
all  to  itself.  I  hardly  know  what  to  say.  I  could  not 


The   Irrational   Knot 

have  believed  that  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  would  have  be- 
haved as  she  has  done.  I  was  so  angry  at  first  that  for 
fully  an  hour  I  felt  ill;  and  I  spoke  quite  wickedly  to 
George  the  day  after  he  arrived,  because  he  said  that 
Sholto  had  better  not  take  me  down  to  dinner,  although 
his  doing  so  was  quite  accidental.  I  know  you  will  be- 
lieve me  when  I  tell  you  that  I  was  quite  unconscious 
that  he  had  been  unusually  attentive  to  me;  and  I  was 
about  to  write  you  an  indignant  denial,  only  I  shewed 
Nelly  your  letter,  and  she  crushed  me  by  telling  me  she 
had  noticed  it  too.  We  nearly  had  a  quarrel  about  it; 
but  she  counted  up  the  number  of  times  I  had  danced 
with  him  and  sat  beside  him  at  dinner;  and  I  suppose  an 
evil-minded  woman  looking  on  might  think  what  Mrs. 
Leith  Fairfax  thought.  But  there  is  no  excuse  for  her. 
She  knows  that  Sholto  and  I  have  been  intimate  since 
we  were  children*,  and  there  is  something  odious  in  her, 
of  all  people,  pretending  to  misunderstand  us.  What  is 
worse,  she  was  particularly  friendly  and  confidential  with 
me  while  she  was  here;  and  although  I  tried  to  keep 
away  from  her  at  first,  she  persisted  in  conciliating  me, 
and  persuaded  me  that  Douglas  had  entirely  mistaken 
what  she  said  that  other  time.  Who  could  have  expected 
her  to  turn  round  and  calumniate  me  the  moment  my 
back  was  turned !  How  can  people  do  such  things !  I 
hope  we  shall  not  meet  her  again-,  for  I  will  never  speak 
to  her.  I  have  not  said  anything  to  Douglas.  How 
could  I?  It  would  only  make  mischief.  I  feel  that  the 
right  course  is  to  come  home  as  soon  as  I  can,  and  in  the 
meantime  to  avoid  him  as  much  as  possible.  So  you 
may  expect  me  on  Saturday  next.  Mr.  McQuinch  is 
quite  dismayed  at  my  departure,  which  he  says  will  be 
the  signal  for  a  general  breaking  up;  but  this  I  cannot 
help.  I  shall  be  glad  to  go  home,  of  course.  Still,  I 
am  sorry  to  leave  this  place,  where  we  have  all  been  so 
jolly.  I  will  write  and  let  you  know  what  train  I  shall 
come  by;  but  you  need  not  trouble  to  meet  me,  unless 
you  like:  I  can  get  home  quite  well  by  myself.  After 
all,  it  is  just  as  well  that  I  am  getting  away.  It  was 
pleasant  enough;  but  now  I  feel  utterly  disgusted  with 

315 


The  Irrational   Knot 

everything  and  everybody.     I  find  I  must  stop.    They 
have  just  come  in  from  church;  and  I  must  go  down. 

"Your  affectionate 

"  MARIAN." 


316 


CHAPTER   XVI 

ONE  Saturday  afternoon  in  December  Marian 
and  Elinor  sat  drinking  tea  in  the  drawing- 
room  at  Holland  Park.  Elinor  was  present 
as  an  afternoon  caller:  she  no  longer  resided  with  the 
Conollys.  Marian  had  been  lamely  excusing  herself  for 
not  having  read  Elinor's  last  book. 

"  Pray  dont  apologize,"  said  Elinor.  "  I  remember  the 
time  when  you  would  have  forced  yourself  to  read  it 
from  a  sense  of  duty;  and  I  am  too  delighted  to  find 
that  nonsense  washing  out  of  you  at  last  to  feel  the 
wound  to  my  vanity.  Oh,  say  no  more,  my  dear:  you 
can  read  it  still  whenever  you  please.  Brother  George 
read  it,  and  was  shocked  because  the  heroine  loves  the 
villain  and  tells  him  so  without  waiting  to  be  asked.  It 
is  odd  that  long  ago,  when  I  believed  so  devoutly  in  the 
tender  passion,  I  never  could  write  a  really  flaming  love 
story." 

"  Dont  begin  to  talk  like  that,"  said  Marian,  crossly. 
"  People  do  fall  in  love,  fortunately  for  them.  It  may 
be  injudicious-,  and  it  may  turn  out  badly;  but  it  fills  up 
life  in  a  way  that  all  the  barren  philosophy  and  cynicism 
on  earth  cannot.  Do  you  think  I  would  not  rather 
have  to  regret  a  lost  love  than  to  repine  because  I  had 
been  too  cautious  to  love  at  all?  The  disappointments 
of  love  warm  the  heart  more  than  the  triumphs  of  in- 
sensibility." 

"  Thats  rather  a  good  sentence,"  said  Elinor.     "  Your 

317 


The   Irrational   Knot 

talk  is  more  classical  than  my  writing.  But  what  would 
the  departed  Marian  Lind  have  said?" 

"  The  departed  Marian  Lind  was  so  desperately  wise 
that  she  neglected  that  excellent  precept,  '  Be  not  right- 
eous over  much,  neither  make  thyself  over  wise:  why 
shouldest  thou  destroy  thyself?'  I  took  up  the  Bible 
last  night  for  the  first  time  since  my  marriage;  and  I 
thought  what  fools  we  two  used  to  be  when  we  made 
up  our  minds  to  avoid  all  the  mistakes  and  follies  and 
feelings  of  other  people,  and  to  be  quite  superior  and 
rational.  '  He  that  observeth  the  wind  shall  not  sow ; 
and  he  that  regardeth  the  clouds  shall  not  reap.'  It  is 
all  so  true,  in  spite  of  what  Ned  says.  We  were  very 
clever  at  observing  the  wind  and  regarding  the  clouds; 
and  what  are  we  the  better  for  it?  How  much  irrep- 
arable mischief,  I  wonder,  did  we  do  ourselves  by  let- 
ting our  little  wisdoms  stifle  all  our  big  instincts !  Look 
at  those  very  other  people  whom  we  despised:  how 
happy  they  are,  in  spite  of  their  having  always  done 
exactly  what  their  hearts  told  them !  " 

"  I  think  we  are  pretty  well  off  as  people  go.  I  know 
I  am.  Certainly  it  was  part  of  our  wisdom  that  marriage 
was  a  bad  thing;  and  I  grant  that  though  you  married 
in  obedience  to  your  instincts  you  are  as  well  off  as  I. 
But  I  dont  see  that  we  are  the  worse  for  having  thought 
a  little." 

"  I  did  not  marry  in  obedience  to  my  instincts,  Nelly; 
and  you  know  it.  I  made  a  disinterested  marriage  with 
a  man  whom  I  felt  I  could  respect  as  my  superior.  I 
was  convinced  then  that  a  grand  passion  was  a  folly." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  now  ?  " 

"  I  think  that  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  talking 
about." 

318 


The  Irrational   Knot  \ 

"  I  believe  you  were  in  love  with  Ned  when  you  mar- 
ried him,  and  long  enough  before  that,  too." 

"  Of  course  I  loved  him.     I  love  him  still." 

"  Do  you,  really  ?  To  hear  you,  one  would  think  that 
you  only  respected  him  as  a  superior." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  that.  You  dont  under- 
stand." 

"Perhaps  not.     Would  you  mind  explaining?" 

"  I  do  not  mean  anything  particular ;  but  there  are 
two  kinds  of  love.  There  is  a  love  which  one's  good 
sense  suggests — a  sort  of  moral  approval " 

Elinor  laughed.  "  Go  on,"  she  said.  "  What  is  the 
other  sort  ?  " 

"  The  other  sort  has  nothing  to  do  with  good  sense. 
It  is  an  overpowering  impulse — a  craving — a  faith  that 
defies  logic — something  to  look  forward  to  feeling  in 
your  youth,  and  look  back  to  with  a  kindling  heart  in 
your  age." 

"  Indeed !  Isnt  the  difference  between  the  two  sorts 
much  the  same  as  the  difference  between  the  old  love 
and  the  new  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  will  take  another  cup  of  tea.  You  neednt 
stop  flying  out  at  me,  though :  I  dont  mind  it." 

"  Excuse  me.     I  did  not  mean  to  fly  out  at  you." 

"  It's  rather  odd  that  we  so  seldom  meet  now  without 
getting  on  this  subject  and  having  a  row.  Has  that 
struck  you  at  all  ?  " 

Marian  turned  to  the  fire,  and  remained  silent. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Marian.  You  are  in  the  blues.  Why 
dont  you  go  to  Ned,  and  tell  him  that  he  is  a  cast-iron 
walking  machine,  and  that  you  are  unhappy,  and  want 

319 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  society  of  a  flesh-and-blood  man?  Have  a  furious 
scene  with  him,  and  all  will  come  right." 

"  It  is  very  easy  to  talk.  I  could  not  go  to  him  and 
make  myself  ridiculous  like  that :  the  words  would  choke 
me.  Besides,  I  am  not  unhappy." 

"  What  a  lie !  You  wicked  woman !  A  moment  ago 
you  were  contemning  all  prudence;  and  now  you  will  not 
speak  your  mind  because  you  are  afraid  of  being  ridicu- 
lous. What  is  that  but  observing  the  wind  and  regard- 
ing the  clouds,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  speak  harshly  to  me,  even  in 
jest.  It  hurts  me." 

"  Serve  you  right !  I  am  not  a  bit  remorseful.  No 
matter:  let  us  talk  of  something  else.  Where  did  those 
flowers  come  from  ?  " 

"  Douglas  sent  them.  I  am  going  to  the  theatre  to- 
night; and  I  wanted  a  bouquet." 

"  Very  kind  of  him.  I  wonder  he  did  not  bring  it 
himself.  He  rarely  misses  an  excuse  for  coming." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that,  Nelly  ?  He  comes  here  very 
seldom,  except  on  Sunday;  and  that  is  a  regular  thing, 
just  as  your  coming  is." 

"  He  was  here  on  Tuesday ;  you  saw  him  at  Mrs. 
Saunders's  on  Wednesday;  he  was  at  your  at-home  on 
Thursday;  and  he  sends  a  bouquet  on  Saturday." 

"  I  cannot  help  meeting  him  out ;  and  not  to  invite 
him  to  my  at-home  would  be  to  cut  him.  Pray  are  you 
growing  spiteful,  like  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax  ?  " 

"  Marian:  you  got  out  of  bed  at  the  wrong  side  this 
morning;  and  you  have  made  that  mistake  oftener  since 
your  return  from  Sark  than  in  all  your  life  before. 
Douglas  has  become  a  lazy  good-for-nothing;  and  he 
comes  here  a  great  deal  too  often.  Instead  of  encour- 

320 


The  Irrational   Knot 

aging  him  to  dangle  after  you  as  he  does,  and  to  teach 
you  all  those  finely  turned  sentiments  about  love  which 
you  were  airing  a  minute  ago,  you  ought  to  make  him 
get  called  to  the  bar,  or  sent  into  Parliament,  or  put  to 
work  in  some  fashion." 

"Nelly!" 

"  Bother  Nelly !  It  is  true ;  and  you  know  it  as  well 
as  I  do." 

"  If  he  fancies  himself  in  love  with  me,  I  cannot  help 
it." 

"  You  can  help  his  following  you  about." 

"  I  cannot.  He  does  not  follow  me  about.  Why  does 
not  Ned  object?  He  knows  that  Sholto  is  in  love  with 
me;  and  he  does  not  care." 

"  Oh,  if  it  is  only  to  make  Ned  jealous,  then  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say :  you  may  flirt  away  as  hard  as  you 
please.  There's  a  knock  at  the  door,  just  in  time  to  pre- 
vent us  from  quarrelling.  I  know  whose  knock  it  is,  too." 

Marian  had  flushed  slightly  at  the  sound ;  and  Elinor, 
with  her  feet  stretched  out  before  her,  tapped  the  carpet 
restlessly  with  her  heels,  and  watched  her  cousin  sourly 
as  Douglas  entered.  He  was  in  evening  dress. 

"  Good-evening,"  said  Elinor.  "  So  you  are  going  to 
the  theatre,  too?" 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Douglas.  "  Is  any  one  coming  with 
us  ?  Shall  we  have  the  pleasure  of  your  company  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  Elinor,  drily.  "I  thought  Mr.  Con- 
olly  was  perhaps  going  with  you." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad,  I  am  sure,  if  he  will,"  said 
Douglas. 

"He  will  not,"  said  Marian.  "I  doubt  if  he  will 
come  home  before  we  start." 

"  You  got  my  flowers  safely,  I  see." 

321 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"Yes,  thank  you.    They  are  beautiful." 

"  They  need  be,  if  you  are  to  wear  them." 

"  I  think  I  will  go,"  said  Elinor,  "  if  you  can  spare 
me.  Marian  has  been  far  from  amiable;  and  if  you  are 
going  to  pay  her  compliments,  I  shall  very  soon  be  as 
bad  as  she.  Good-bye."  Douglas  gratefully  went  with 
her  to  the  door.  She  looked  very  hard  at  him,  and  al- 
most made  a  grimace  as  they  parted ;  but  she  said  nothing. 

"  I  am  very  glad  she  went,"  said  Marian,  when  Doug- 
las returned.  "  She  annoys  me.  Everything  annoys 
me." 

"  You  are  leading  an  impossible  life  here,  Marian," 
he  said,  putting  his  hand  on  her  chair  and  bending  over 
her.  "  Whilst  it  lasts,  everything  will  annoy  you ;  and 
I,  who  would  give  the  last  drop  of  my  blood  to  spare 
you  a  moment's  pain,  shall  never  experience  the  delight 
of  seeing  you  happy." 

"What  other  life  can  I  lead?" 

Douglas  made  an  impulsive  movement,  as  though  to 
reply ;  but  he  hesitated,  and  did  not  speak.  Marian  was 
not  looking  at  him.  She  was  gazing  into  the  fire. 

"  Sholto,"  she  said,  after  an  interval  of  silence,  "  you 
must  not  come  here  any  more." 

"  What !  " 

"  You  are  too  idle.  You  come  here  too  often.  Why 
do  you  not  become  a  barrister,  or  go  into  Parliament, 
or  at  least  write  books?  If  Nelly  can  succeed  as  an 
author,  surely  you  can." 

"  I  have  left  all  that  behind  me.  I  am  a  failure :  you 
know  why.  Let  us  talk  no  more  of  it." 

"  Do  not  go  on  like  that,"  said  Marian,  pettishly.  "  I 
dont  like  it." 

322 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  am  afraid  to  say  or  do  anything,  you  are  so  easily 
distressed." 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  am  very  cross.  Elinor  remarked  it 
too.  I  think  you  might  bear  with  me,  Sholto."  Here, 
most  unexpectedly,  she  rose  and  burst  into  tears.  "  When 
my  whole  life  is  one  dreary  record  of  misery,  I  cannot 
always  be  patient.  I  have  been  forbearing  toward  you 
many  times." 

Douglas  was  at  first  frightened;  for  he  had  never  seen 
her  cry  before.  Then,  as  she  sat  down  again,  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  he  advanced, 
intending  to  kneel  and  put  his  arm  about  her;  but  his 
courage  failed:  he  only  drew  a  chair  to  the  fire,  and  bent 
over,  as  he  sat  beside  her,  till  his  face  was  close  to  hers, 
saying,  "  It  is  all  the  fault  of  your  mad  marriage.  You 
were  happy  until  then.  I  have  been  silent  hitherto;  but 
now  that  I  see  your  tears,  I  can  no  longer  master 
myself.  Listen  to  me,  Marian.  You  asked  me  a  moment 
since  what  other  life  was  open  to  you.  There  is  a  better 

life.  Leave  England  with  me;  and — and "  Marian 

had  raised  her  head;  and  as  she  looked  steadily  at  him, 
he  stopped,  and  his  lips  became  white. 

"  Go  on,"  she  said.     "  I  am  not  angry.     What  else  ?  " 

"  Nothing  else  except  happiness."  His  voice  died 
away:  there  was  a  pause.  Then,  recovering  himself, 
he  went  on  with  something  of  his  characteristic  state- 
liness.  "  There  is  no  use  in  prolonging  your  present 
life ;  it  is  a  failure,  like  mine.  Why  should  you  hesitate  ? 
You  know  how  seldom  the  mere  letter  of  duty  leads  to 
either  happiness  or  justice.  You  can  rescue  me  from  a 
wasted  existence.  You  can  preserve  your  own  heart 
from  a  horrible  slow  domestic  decay.  He  will  not  care: 
he  cares  for  nothing :  he  is  morally  murdering  you.  You 

323 


The  Irrational   Knot 

have  no  children  to  think  of.  I  love  you;  and  I  offer 
you  your  choice  of  the  fairest  spots  in  the  wide  world 
to  pass  our  future  in,  with  my  protection  to  ensure  your 
safety  and  comfort  there,  wherever  it  may  be.  You 
know  what  a  hollow  thing  conventional  virtue  is.  Who 
are  the  virtuous  people  about  you?  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax, 
and  her  like.  If  you  love  me,  you  must  know  that  you 
are  committing  a  crime  against  nature  in  living  as  you 
are  with  a  man  who  is  as  far  removed  from  you  in  every 
human  emotion  as  his  workshop  is  from  heaven.  You 
have  striven  to  do  your  duty  by  him  in  vain.  He  is 
none  the  happier :  we  are  unutterably  the  more  miserable. 
Let  us  try  a  new  life.  I  have  lived  in  society  here  all 
my  days,  and  have  found  its  atmosphere  most  worthless, 
most  selfish,  most  impure.  I  want  to  be  free — to  shake 
the  dust  of  London  off  my  feet,  and  enter  on  a  life 
made  holy  by  love.  You  can  respond  to  such  an  aspi- 
ration :  you,  too,  must  yearn  for  a  pure  and  free  life. 
It  is  within  our  reach :  you  have  but  to  stretch  out  your 
hand.  Say  something  to  me.  Are  you  listening  ?  " 

"  It  seems  strange  that  I  should  be  listening  to  you 
quite  calmly,  as  I  am;  although  you  are  proposing  what 
the  world  thinks  a  disgraceful  thing." 

"  Does  it  matter  what  the  world  thinks  ?  ^  I  would  not, 
even  to  save  myself  from  a  wasted  career,  ask  you  to 
take  a  step  that  would  really  disgrace  you.  But  I  can- 
not bear  to  think  of  you  looking  back  some  day  over 
a  barren  past,  and  knowing  that  you  sacrificed  your 
happiness  to  Fashion — an  idol.  Do  you  remember  last 
Sunday  when  we  discussed  that  bitter  saying  that  women 
who  have  sacrificed  their  feelings  to  the  laws  of  society 
secretly  know  that  they  have  been  fools  for  their  pains? 
He  did  not  deny  it.  You  could  give  no  good  reason  for 

324 


The  Irrational   Knot 

disbelieving  it.  You  know  it  to  be  true;  and  I  am  only 
striving  to  save  you  from  that  vain  regret.  You  have 
shewn  that  you  can  obey  the  world  with  grace  and  dig- 
nity when  the  world  is  right.  Shew  now  that  you  can 
defy  it  fearlessly  when  it  is  tyrannical.  Trust  your 
heart,  Marian — my  darling  Marian :  trust  your  heart — 
and  mine." 

"  For  what  hour  have  you  ordered  the  carriage  ?  " 

"  The  carriage !  Is  that  what  you  say  to  me  at  such 
a  moment?  Are  you  still  flippant  as  ever?  " 

"  I  am  quite  serious.  Say  no  more  now.  If  I  go,  I 
will  go  deliberately,  and  not  on  the  spur  of  your  per- 
suasion. I  must  have  time  to  think.  What  hour  did 
you  say  ?  " 

"  Seven." 

"  Then  it  is  time  for  me  to  dress.  You  will  not  mind 
waiting  here  alone  ?  " 

"  If  you  would  only  give  me  one  hopeful  word,  I 
think  I  could  wait  happily  forever." 

"What  can  I  say?" 

"  Say  that  you  love  me." 

"  I  am  striving  to  discover  whether  I  have  always 
loved  you  or  not.  Surely,  if  there  be  such  a  thing  as 
love,  we  should  be  lovers." 

He  was  chilled  by  her  solemn  tone;  but  he  made  a 
movement  as  if  to  embrace  her. 

"  No,"  she  said,  stopping  him.  "  I  am  his  wife  still. 
I  have  not  yet  pronounced  my  own  divorce." 

She  left  the  room;  and  he  walked  uneasily  to  and  fro 
until  she  returned,  dressed  in  white.  He  gazed  at  her 
with  quickened  breath  as  she  confronted  him.  Neither 
heeded  the  click  of  her  husband's  latchkey  in  the  door 
without. 

325 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  When  I  was  a  little  boy,  Marian,"  he  said,  gazing 
at  her,  "  I  used  to  think  that  Paul  Delaroche's  Christian 
martyr  was  the  most  exquisite  vision  of  beauty  in  the 
world.  I  have  the  same  feeling  as  I  look  at  you  now." 

"  Marian  reminds  me  of  that  picture  too,"  said  Con- 
oily.  "  I  remember  wondering,"  he  continued,  smiling, 
as  they  started  and  turned  toward  him,  "  why  the  young 
lady — she  was  such  a  perfect  lady — was  martyred  in  a 
ball  dress,  as  I  took  her  costume  to  be.  Marian's  wreath 
adds  to  the  force  of  the  reminiscence." 

"  If  I  recollect  aright,"  said  Marian,  taking  up  his 
bantering  tone  with  a  sharper  irony,  "  Delaroche's  martyr 
shewed  a  fine  sense  of  the  necessity  of  having  her  wrists 
gracefully  tied.  I  am  about  to  follow  her  example  by 
wearing  these  bracelets,  which  I  can  never  fasten.  Be 
good  enough  to  assist  me,  both  of  you." 

She  extended  a  hand  to  each;  and  Conolly,  after 
looking  at  the  catch  for  a  moment,  closed  it  dexterously 
at  the  first  snap.  "  By  the  bye,"  he  said,  whilst  Douglas 
fumbled  at  the  other  bracelet,  "  I  have  to  run  away  to 
Glasgow  to-night  by  the  ten  train.  We  shall  not  see 
one  another  again  until  Monday  evening." 

Douglas's  hand  began  to  shake  so  that  the  gold  band 
chafed  Marian's  arm.  "  There,  there,"  she  said,  draw- 
ing it  away  from  him,  "  you  do  it  for  me,  Ned.  Sholto 
has  no  mechanical  genius."  Her  hand  was  quite  steady 
as  Conolly  shut  the  clasp.  "  Why  must  you  go  to  Glas- 
gow?" 

"They  have  got  into  a  mess  at  the  works  there;  and 
the  engineer  has  telegraphed  for  me  to  go  down  and 
see  what  is  the  matter.  I  shall  certainly  be  back  on 
Monday.  Have  something  for  me  to  eat  at  half  past 
seven.  I  am  sorry  to  be  away  from  our  Sunday  dinner, 

326 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Douglas;  but  you  know  the  popular  prejudice.  If  you 
want  a  thing  done,  see  to  it  yourself." 

"  Sholto  has  been  very  eloquent  this  evening  on  the 
subject  of  popular  prejudices,"  said  Marian.  "  He  says 
that  to  defy  the  world  is  a  proof  of  honesty." 

"  So  it  is,"  said  Conolly.  "  I  get  on  in  the  world  by 
defying  its  old  notions,  and  taking  nobody's  advice  but 
my  own.  Follow  Douglas's  precepts  by  all  means.  Do 
you  know  that  it  is  nearly  a  quarter  to  eight  ?  " 

"  Oh !     Let  us  go.     We  shall  be  late." 

"  I  shall  not  see  you  to-morrow,  Douglas.  Good- 
night." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Douglas,  keeping  at  some  dis- 
tance; for  he  did  not  care  to  offer  Conolly  his  hand  be- 
fore Marian  now.  "  Pleasant  journey." 

"Thank  you.  Hallo!  [Marian  had  impatiently 
turned  back.]  What  have  you  forgotten?" 

"  My  opera-glass,"  said  Marian.  "  No,  thanks :  you 
would  not  know  where  to  look  for  it:  I  will  go  myself." 
She  went  upstairs ;  and  Conolly,  after  a  pause,  followed, 
and  found  her  in  their  bedroom,  closing  the  drawer  from 
which  she  had  just  taken  the  opera-glass. 

"  Marian,"  he  said :  "  you  have  been  crying  to-day. 
Is  anything  wrong  ?  or  is  it  only  nervousness  ?  " 

"  Only  nervousness,"  said  Marian.  "  How  did  you 
find  out  that  I  had  been  crying?  it  was  only  for  an 
instant,  because  Nelly  annoyed  me.  Does  my  face  shew 
it?" 

"  It  does  to  me,  not  to  anyone  else.  Are  you  more 
cheerful  now  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  am  all  right.  I  will  go  to  Glasgow  with  you, 
if  you  like." 

Conolly    recoiled,    disconcerted.      "  Why  ? "    he    said. 

327 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Do  you  wish ?  "  He  recovered  himself,  and  added, 

"  It  is  too  cold,  my  dear;  and  I  must  travel  very  fast.  I 
shall  be  busy  all  the  time.  Besides,  you  are  forgetting 
the  theatre  and  Douglas,  who,  by  the  bye,  is  catching 
cold  on  the  steps." 

"  Well,  I  had  better  go  with  Douglas,  since  it  will 
make  you  happier." 

"  Go  with  Douglas,  my  dear  one,  if  it  will  make  you 
happier,"  said  he,  kissing  her.  To  his  surprise,  she  threw 
her  arm  round  him,  held  him  fast  by  the  shoulder,  and 
looked  at  him  with  extraordinary  earnestness.  He  gave 
a  little  laugh,  and  disengaged  himself  gently,  saying, 
"  Dont  you  think  your  nervousness  is  taking  a  turn 
rather  inconvenient  for  Douglas  ?  "  She  let  her  hands 
fall;  closed  her  lips;  and  passed  quietly  out.  He  went 
to  the  window  and  watched  her  as  she  entered  the  car- 
riage. Douglas  held  the  door  open  for  her;  and  Con- 
olly,  looking  at  him  with  a  sort  of  pity,  noted  that  he 
was,  in  his  way,  a  handsome  man,  and  that  his  habit  of 
taking  himself  very  seriously  gave  him  a  certain  dig- 
nity. The  brougham  rolled  away  into  the  fog.  Con- 
oily  pulled  down  the  blind,  and  began  to  pack  his  port- 
manteau to  a  vigorously  whistled  accompaniment. 


328 


CHAPTER   XVII 

CONOLLY  returned  from  Glasgow  a  little  before 
eight  on  Monday  evening.  There  was  no  light 
in  the  window  when  he  entered  the  garden. 
Miss  McQuinch  opened  the  door  before  he  reached  it. 

"  What !  "  he  said.  "  Going  the  moment  I  come  in !  " 
Then,  seeing  her  face  by  the  hall  lamp,  he  put  down  his 
bag  quickly,  and  asked  what  the  matter  was. 

"  I  dont  know  whether  anything  is  the  matter.  I  am 
very  glad  you  have  returned.  Come  into  the  drawing- 
room:  I  dont  want  the  servants  to  hear  us  talking." 

"  There  is  no  light  here,"  he  said,  following  her  in. 
"  Is  it  possible  you  have  been  waiting  in  the  dark?  " 

He  lit  a  candle,  and  was  about  .to  light  a  lamp  when 
she  exclaimed  impatiently,  "  Oh,  I  did  not  notice  it: 
what  does  it  matter?  Do  let  the  lamp  alone,  and  listen 
to  me."  He  obeyed,  much  amused  at  her  irritation. 
"  Where  has  Marian  gone  to  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Is  she  out  ?  "  he  said,  suddenly  grave.  "  You  forget 
that  I  have  come  straight  from  Glasgow." 

"  I  have  been  here  since  three  o'clock.  Marian  sent 
me  a  note  not  to  come  on  Sunday — that  she  should  be 
out  and  that  you  were  away.  But  they  tell  me  that  she 
was  at  home  all  yesterday,  except  for  two  hours  when 
she  was  out  with  Sholto.  She  packed  her  trunks  in  the 
evening,  and  went  away  with  them.  She  told  the  cab- 
man to  drive  to  Euston.  I  dont  know  what  it  all  means; 
and  I  have  been  half  distracted  waiting  here  for  you. 

329 


The   Irrational   Knot 

I  thought  you  would  never  come.  There  is  a  note  for 
you  on  your  dressing-table." 

He  pursed  his  lips  a  little  and  looked  attentively  at 
her,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Wont  you  go  and  open  it  ?  "  she  said  anxiously.  "  It 
must  contain  some  explanation." 

"  I  am  afraid  the  explanation  is  obvious." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  that.  How  do  you  know  ? 
If  you  are  not  going  to  read  her  letter,  you  had  better 
say  so  at  once.  I  dont  want  to  pry  into  it:  I  only  want 
to  know  what  is  become  of  Marian." 

"  You  shall  read  it  by  all  means.  Will  you  excuse 
me  whilst  I  fetch  it?" 

She  stamped  with  impatience.  He  smiled  and  went 
for  the  letter,  which,  after  a  brief  absence,  he  placed 
unopened  on  the  table  before  her,  saying: 

"  I  suppose  this  is  it.  I  laid  my  hand  on  it  in  the 
dark." 

"Are  you  going  to  open  it  ? "  she  said,  hardly  able 
to  contain  herself. 

"  No." 

He  had  not  raised  his  voice;  but  it  struck  her  that  he 
was  in  a  rage.  His  friendly  look  and  quiet  attitude  first 
reassured,  then,  on  second  thoughts,  exasperated  her. 

"Why  wont  you?" 

"  I  really  dont  know.  Somehow,  I  am  not  curious. 
It  interests  you.  Pray  open  it." 

"  I  will  die  first.  If  it  lie  there  until  I  open  it,  it  will 
lie  there  forever." 

He  opened  the  envelope  neatly  with  a  paper  cutter, 
and  handed  her  the  enclosure.  She  kept  down  her 
hands  stubbornly.  He  smiled  a  little,  still  presenting  it. 
At  last  she  snatched  it,  much  as  she  would  have  liked  to 

330 


The  Irrational  Knot 

snatch  a  handful  of  his  hair.  Having  read  it,  she  turned 
pale,  and  looked  as  she  had  used  to  in  her  childhood, 
when  in  disgrace  and  resolute  not  to  cry.  "  I  had 
rather  have  had  my  two  hands  cut  off,"  she  said  pas- 
sionately, after  a  pause. 

"  It  is  very  sad  for  you,"  said  Conolly,  sympathetically. 
"  He  is  an  educated  man;  but  I  cannot  think  that  he 
has  much  in  him." 

"  He  is  a  selfish,  lying,  conceited  hound.  Educated, 
indeed !  And  what  are  you  going  to  do,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Eat  my  supper.     I  am  as  hungry  as  a  bear." 

"  Yes,  you  had  better,  I  think.     Good-evening." 

He  seemed  to  know  that  she  would  not  leave;  for  he 
made  no  movement  to  open  the  door  for  her.  On  her 
way  out,  she  turned,  and  so  came  at  him  with  her  fists 
clenched,  that  for  a  moment  he  was  doubtful  whether 
she  would  not  bodily  assault  him. 

"  Are  you  a  brute,  or  a  fool,  or  both  ? "  she  said,  let- 
ting her  temper  loose.  "  How  long  do  you  intend  to 
stand  there,  doing  nothing  ?  " 

"  What  can  I  do,  Miss  McQuinch  ?  "  he  said,  gently. 

"  You  can  follow  her  and  bring  her  back  before  she 
has  made  an  utter  idiot  of  herself  with  that  miserable 
blackguard.  Are  you  afraid  of  him?  If  you  are,  I  will 
go  with  you,  and  not  let  him  touch  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  good-humoredly.  "  But  you 
see  she  does  not  wish  to  live  with  me." 

"  Good  God,  man,  what  woman  do  you  think  could 
wish  to  live  with  you!  I  suppose  Marian  wanted  a 
human  being  to  live  with,  and  not  a  calculating  machine. 
You  would  drive  any  woman  away.  If  you  had  feeling 
enough  to  have  kicked  him  out  of  the  house,  and  then 
beaten  her  black  and  blue  for  encouraging  him,  you 

331 


The   Irrational   Knot 

would  have  been  more  of  a  man  than  you  are :  she  would 
have  loved  you  more.  You  are  not  a  man:  you  are  a 
stone  full  of  brains — such  as  they  are!  Listen  to  me, 
Mr.  Conolly.  There  is  one  chance  left — if  you  will  only 
make  haste.  Go  after  them ;  overtake  them ;  thrash  him 
within  an  inch  of  his  life ;  and  bring  her  back  and  punish 
her  how  you  please  so  long  as  you  shew  her  that  you 
care.  You  can  do  it  if  you  will  only  make  up  your  mind : 
he  is  a  coward;  and  he  is  afraid  of  you:  I  have  seen  it 
in  his  eye.  You  are  worth  fifty  of  him — if  you  would 
only  not  be  so  cold  blooded — if  you  will  only  go — dear 
Mr.  Conolly — youre  not  really  insensible — you  will, 
wont  you  ?  " 

This,  the  first  tender  tone  he  had  ever  heard  in  her 
voice,  made  him  look  at  her  curiously.  "  What  does  the 
letter  say  ?  "  he  asked,  still  quietly,  but  inexorably. 

She  snatched  it  up  again.  "  Here,"  she  said.  "  '  Our 
marriage  was  a  mistake.  I  am  going  away  with  Doug- 
las to  the  other  side  of  the  world.  It  is  all  I  can  do  to 
mend  matters.  Pray  forget  me/  That  is  what  her  let- 
ter says,  since  you  condescend  to  ask." 

"  It  is  too  late,  then.  You  felt  that  as  you  read  it, 
I  think?" 

"  Yes,"  she  cried,  sitting  down  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief, 
but  unable  to  weep.  "  It  is  too  late ;  and  it  is  all  your 
fault.  What  business  had  you  to  go  'away  ?  You  knew 
what  was  going  to  happen.  You  intended  it  to  hap- 
pen. You  wanted  it  to  happen.  You  are  glad  it  has 
happened;  and  it  serves  you  right.  'Pray  forget  her.' 
Oh,  yes,  poor  girl!  she  need  not  trouble  about  that.  I 
declare  there  is  nothing  viler,  meaner,  cowardlier,  sel- 
fisher  on  earth  than  a  man.  Oh,  if  we  had  only  done 
what  we  always  said  we  would  do — kept  free  from  you'" 

332 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  It  was  a  good  plan,"  said  Conolly,  submissively. 

"  Was  it  ?  How  were  we  to  know  that  you  were  not 
made  of  flesh  and  blood,  pray?  There,  let  me  go. 
[The  table  was  between  them;  but  she  rose  and  shook 
off  an  imaginary  detaining  hand.]  I  dont  want  to 
hear  anything  more  about  it.  I  suppose  you  are  right 
not  to  care.  Very  likely  she  was  right  to  go,  too;  so 
we  are  all  right,  and  everything  is  for  the  best,  no  doubt. 
Marian  is  ruined,  of  course;  but  what  does  that  matter 
to  you?  She  was  only  in  your  way.  You  can  console 

yourself  with  your "  Here  Armande  came  in;  and 

Elinor  turned  quickly  to  the  fireplace  and  stood  there, 
so  that  the  housemaid  should  not  see  her  face. 

"  Your  dinner,  sir,"  said  Armande,  with  a  certain 
artificiality  of  manner  that  was,  under  the  circumstances, 
significant.  "  There  is  a  nice  fire  in  the  laboratory." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Conolly.     "  Presently,  Armande." 

"  The  things  will  spoil  if  you  wait  too  long,  sir.  The 
mistress  was  very  particular  with  me  and  cook  about  it." 
And  Armande,  with  an  air  of  declining  further  responsi- 
bility, went  out. 

"What  shall  I  do  without  Marian?"  said  Conolly. 
"  Not  one  woman  in  a  hundred  is  capable  of  being  a 
mistress  to  her  servants.  She  saved  me  all  the  friction 
of  housekeeping." 

"  You  are  beginning  to  feel  your  loss,"  said  Elinor, 
facing  him  again.  "A  pleasant  thing  for  a  woman  of 
her  talent  to  be  thrown  away  to  save  you  the  friction  of 
housekeeping.  If  you  had  paid  half  the  attention  to 
her  happiness  that  she  did  to  your  dinners  you  would 
not  be  in  your  present  predicament." 

"  Have  you  really  calculated  that  it  is  twice  as  easy 
to  make  a  woman  happy  as  to  feed  a  man  ?  " 

333 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  Calc — !  Yes,  I  have.  I  tell  you  that  it  is  three 
times  as  easy — six  times  as  easy :  more  fool  the  woman ! 
You  can  make  a  woman  happy  for  a  week  by  a  word  or 
a  kiss.  How  long  do  you  think  it  takes  to  order  a  week's 
dinners  ?  I  suppose  you  consider  a  kiss  a  weakness  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid — judging  by  the  result — that  I  am  not 
naturally  clever  at  kissing." 

"  No,  I  should  think  not,  indeed.  Then  you  had  better 
go  and  do  what  you  are  clever  at — eat  your  dinner." 

"  Miss  McQuinch:  did  you  ever  see  an  unfortunate 
little  child  get  a  severe  fall,  and  then,  instead  of  a  little 
kindly  petting,  catch  a  sound  whacking  from  its  nurse 
for  daring  to  startle  her  and  spoil  its  clothes  ?  " 

"  Well,  what  is  the  point  of  that?  " 

"  You  remind  me  a  little  of  the  nurse.  I  have  had  a 
sort  of  fall  this  evening." 

"And  now  you  are  going  to  pretend  to  be  hurt,  I  sup- 
pose; because  you  dont  care  to  be  told  that  it  is  your  own 
fault.  That  is  a  common  experience  with  children,  too. 
I  tell  you  plainly  that  I  dont  believe  you  are  hurt  at  all*, 
though  you  may  not  be  exactly  pleased — just  for  the 
moment.  However,  I  did  not  mean  to  be  uncivil.  If 
you  are  really  sorry,  I  am  at  least  as  sorry.  I  have  not 
said  all  I  think." 

"What  more?" 

"  Nothing  of  any  use  to  say.  I  see  I  am  wasting  my 
time  here — and  no  doubt  wasting  yours  too." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  have  had  your  turn.  If  you  are 
not  thoroughly  satisfied,  pray  go  on  for  ten  minutes 
longer:  your  feelings  do  you  credit,  as  the  phrase  goes. 
Still,  do  not  forget  that  you  thought  just  the  same  of  me 
a  week  ago;  and  that  if  you  had  said  as  much  then  you 
might  have  prevented  what  has  happened.  Giving  me  a 

334 


The    Irrational    Knot 

piece  of  your  mind  now  is  of  no  use  except  as  far  as  it 
relieves  you.  To  Marian  or  me  or  anyone  else  it  does 
no  good.  So  when  you  have  said  your  worst,  we  cannot 
do  better,  I  think,  than  set  our  wits  to  work  about  our 
next  move." 

Elinor  received  this  for  a  moment  in  dudgeon.  Then 
she  laughed  sourly,  and  said,  "  There  is  some  sense  in 
that.  I  am  as  much  to  blame  as  anybody:  I  dont  deny 
it — if  that  is  any  comfort  to  you.  But  as  to  the  next 
move,  you  say  yourself  that  it  is  too  late  to  do  anything ; 
and  I  dont  see  that  you  can  do  much." 

"  That  is  so.  But  there  are  a  few  things  to  be  faced. 
First,  I  have  to  set  Marian  and  myself  free." 

"How?" 

"  Divorce  her." 

"  Divorce !  "  Elinor  looked  at  him  in  dismay.  He 
was  unmoved.  Then  her  gaze  fell  slowly,  and  she  said : 
"  Yes:  I  suppose  you  have  a  right  to  that." 

"  She  also." 

"  So  that  she  may  marry  him — from  a  sense  of  duty. 
That  will  be  so  happy  for  her !  " 

"  She  will  have  time,  before  she  is  free  to  find  out 
whether  she  likes  him  or  not.  There  will  be  a  great  fuss 
in  the  family  over  the  scandal." 

"  Do  you  care  about  that?    /  dont." 

"  No.  However,  thats  a  detail.  Marian  will  perhaps 
write  to  you.  If  so,  just  point  out  to  her  that  her  five 
hundred  a  year  belongs  to  her  still,  and  makes  her  quite 
independent  of  him  and  of  me.  That  is  all,  I  think. 
You  need  take  no  pains  now  to  conceal  what  has  hap- 
pened: the  servants  below  know  it  as  well  as  we:  in  a 
week  it  will  be  town  talk." 

Elinor  looked  wistfully  at  him,  her  impetuosity  failing 

335 


The    Irrational    Knot 

her  as  she  felt  how  little  effect  it  was  producing.  Yet  her 
temper  rather  rose  than  fell  at  him.  There  was  a  much 
more  serious  hostility  than  before  in  her  tone  as  she  said : 
"  You  seem  to  have  been  thoroughly  prepared  for  what 
has  happened.  I  do  not  want  any  instructions  from  you 
as  to  what  I  shall  write  to  Marian  about  her  money 
affairs:  I  want  to  know,  in  case  she  takes  it  into  her 
head  to  come  back  when  she  has  found  what  a  fool  she 
has  made  of  herself,  whether  I  may  tell  her  that  you  are 
glad  to  be  rid  of  her,  and  that  there  is  no  use  in  her  hu- 
miliating herself  by  coming  to  your  door  and  being 
turned  away." 

"  Shall  I  explain  the  situation  to  you  from  my  point 
of  view  ?  "  said  he.  At  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  looked 
up  in  alarm.  The  indulgent,  half-playful  manner  which 
she  had  almost  lost  the  sense  of  because  it  was  so  in- 
variable with  him  in  speaking  to  ladies  was  suddenly 
gone.  She  felt  that  the  real  man  was  coming  out  now 
without  ceremony.  He  was  quick  to  perceive  the  effect 
he  had  produced.  To  soften  it,  he  placed  a  comfort- 
able chair  on  the  hearthrug,  and  said,  in  his  ordinary 
friendly  way :  "  Sit  nearer  the  fire :  we  can  talk  more  com- 
fortably. Now,"  he  continued,  standing  with  his  back 
to  the  mantelpiece,  "  let  me  tell  you,  Miss  McQuinch, 
that  when  you  talk  of  my  turning  people  away  from  my 
door  you  are  not  talking  fair  and  square  sense  to  me. 
I  dont  turn  my  acquaintances  off  in  that  way,  much  less 
my  friends;  and  a  woman  who  has  lived  with  me  as  my 
wife  for  eighteen  months  must  always  be  a  rather  par- 
ticular friend.  I  liked  her  before  I  was  her  husband; 
and  I  shall  continue  to  like  her  when  I  am  no  longer 
her  husband.  So  you  need  have  no  fear  on  that  score. 
But  I  wont  remain  her  husband.  You  said  just  now 

336 


The   Irrational   Knot 

that  I  knew  what  was  going  to  happen ;  that  I  intended 
it  to  happen,  wanted  it  to  happen,  and  am  glad  it  hap- 
pened. There  is  more  truth  in  that  than  you  thought 
when  you  said  it.  For  some  time  past  Marian  has  been 
staying  with  me  as  a  matter  of  custom  and  convenience 
only,  using  me  as  a  cover  for  her  philandering  with 
Douglas,  and  paying  me  by  keeping  the  house  very 
nicely  for  me.  I  had  asked  myself  once  or  twice  how 
long  this  was  to  last.  I  was  in  no  hurry  for  the  answer ; 
for  although  I  was  wifeless  and  had  no  one  to  live  with 
who  really  cared  for  me,  I  was  quite  prepared  to  wait 
a  couple  of  years  if  necessary,  on  the  chance  of  our  mak- 
ing it  up  somehow.  But  sooner  or  later  I  should  have 
insisted  on  closing  our  accounts  and  parting;  and  I  am 
not  sorry  now  that  the  end  has  come,  since  it  was  inevi- 
table; though  I  am  right  sorry  for  the  way  it  has  come. 
Instead  of  eloping  in  the  conventional  way,  she  should 
have  come  to  an  understanding  with  me.  I  could  easily 
have  taken  her  for  a  trip  in  the  States,  where  we  could 
have  stopped  a  few  months  in  South  Dakota  and  got 
divorced  without  any  scandal.  I  have  never  made  any 
claims  on  her  since  she  found  out  that  she  didnt  care 
for  me;  and  she  might  have  known  from  that  that  I 
was  not  the  man  to  keep  her  against  her  will  and  play 
dog  in  the  manger  with  a  fellow  like  Douglas.  However, 
thats  past  praying  for  now.  She  has  had  enough  of  me; 
and  I  have  had  more  than  enough  of  her  set  and  her 
family,  except  that  I  should  like  to  remain  good  friends 
with  you.  You  are  the  only  one  of  the  whole  lot  worth 
your  salt.  It  is  understood,  of  course,  that  you  take 
Marian's  part  against  me  on  all  issues ;  but  will  you  be 
friends  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  that  ?  " 
"All  right,"  said  Nelly,  shortly. 

337 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Shake  hands  on  it ;  and  I'll  tell  you  something  else 
that  will  help  you  to  understand  me  better,"  he  said, 
holding  out  his  hand.  She  gave  hers;  and  when  the 
bargain  was  struck,  he  turned  to  the  fire  and  seated 
himself  on  the  edge  of  the  table. 

"  You  know  that  when  I  married,"  he  resumed,  "  I 
was  promoted  to  mix  in  fashionable  society  for  the  first 
time.  Of  course  you  do :  that  was  the  whole  excitement 
of  the  affair  for  the  family.  You  know  the  impression 
I  made  on  polite  society  better,  probably,  than  I  do.  Now 
tell  me :  do  you  know  what  impression  polite  society  made 
on  me  ?  " 

"  Dont  understand." 

"  Perhaps  it  has  never  occurred  even  to  you,  sharp 
as  you  are,  that  I  could  have  taken  society  otherwise 
than  at  its  own  valuation  of  itself,  as  something  much 
higher,  more  cultivated  and  refined  than  anything  that 
I  had  been  accustomed  to.  Well,  I  never  believed  in 
that  much  at  any  time;  but  it  was  not  until  I  had  made 
a  mesalliance  for  Marian's  sake  that  I  realized  how  in- 
finitely beneath  me  and  my  class  was  the  one  I  had 
married  into." 

"Mesalliance! — with  Marian!  I  take  back  the  shake 
hands." 

"  Mesalliance  with  her  class,  for  her  sake :  I  made  the 
distinction  purposely.  Now  what  am  I,  Miss  McQuinch  ? 
A  worker.  I  belonged  and  belong  to  the  class  that  keeps 
up  the  world  by  its  millions  of  serviceable  hands  and 
serviceable  brains.  All  the  pride  of  caste  in  me  settles 
on  that  point.  I  admit  no  loafer  as  my  equal.  The  man 
who  is  working  at  the  bench  is  my  equal,  whether  he 
can  do  my  day's  work  or  not,  provided  he  is  doing  the 
best  he  can.  But  the  man  who  does  not  work  anyhow, 

338 


The   Irrational   Knot 

and  the  class  that  does  not  work,  is  a  class  below  mine. 
When  I  annoyed  Marian  by  refusing  to  wear  a  tall  hat 
and  cuffs,  I  did  so  because  I  wanted  to  have  it  seen 
as  I  walked  through  Piccadilly  and  St.  James's  Street 
that  I  did  not  belong  there,  just  as  your  people  walk 
through  a  poor  street  dressed  so  as  to  shew  that  they 
dont  belong  there.  To  me  a  man  like  your  uncle,  Ma- 
rian's father,  or  like  Marmaduke  or  Douglas,  loafing 
idly  round  spending  money  that  has  been  made  by  the 
sweat  of  men  like  myself,  are  little  better  than  thieves. 
They  get  on  with  the  queerest  makeshifts  for  self-re- 
spect! old  Mr.  Lind  with  family  pride,  Douglas  with  per- 
sonal vanity,  and  Marmaduke  with  a  sort  of  interest  in 
his  own  appetites  and  his  own  jollity.  Everything  is  a 
sham  with  them:  they  have  drill  and  etiquet  instead  of 
manners,  fashions  instead  of  tastes,  small  talk  instead 
of  intercourse.  Everything  that  is  special  to  them  as 
distinguished  from  workers  is  a  sham:  when  you  get 
down  to  the  real  element  in  them,  good  or  bad,  you  find 
that  it  is  something  that  is  common  to  them  and  to  all 
civilized  mankind.  The  reason  that  this  isnt  as  clear  to 
other  workmen  who  come  amoiag  them  as  it  is  to  me  is 
that  most  workmen  share  their  ignorance  of  the  things 
they  affect  superiority  in.  Poor  Jackson,  whom  you  all 
call  the  Yankee  cad,  and  who  is  not  a  cad  at  all  in  his 
proper  place  among  the  engineers  at  our  works,  believes  in 
the  sham  refinements  he  sees  around  him  at  the  at-homes 
he  is  so  fond  of.  He  has  no  art  in  him — no  trained  ear 
for  music  or  for  fine  diction,  no  trained  eye  for  pictures 
and  colors  and  buildings,  no  cultivated  sense  of  dignified 
movement,  gesture,  and  manner.  But  he  knows  what 
fashionable  London  listens  to  and  looks  at,  and  how  it 
talks  and  behaves;  and  he  makes  that  his  standard,  and 

339 


The    Irrational    Knot 

sets  down  what  is  different  from  it  as  vulgar.  Now  the 
difference  between  me  and  him  is  that  I  got  an  artistic 
training  by  accident  when  I  was  young,  and  had  the 
natural  turn  to  profit  by  it.  Before  I  ever  saw  a  West 
End  Londoner  I  knew  beautiful  from  ugly,  rare  from 
common,  in  music,  speech,  costume,  and  gesture;  for  in 
my  father's  operatic  and  theatrical  companies  there  did 
come  now  and  then,  among  the  crowd  of  thirdraters,  a 
dancer,  an  actor,  a  scenepainter,  a  singer,  or  a  bandsman 
or  conductor  who  was  a  fine  artist.  Consequently,  I  was 
not  to  be  taken  in  like  Jackson  by  made-up  faces,  trashy 
pictures,  drawling  and  lounging  and  strutting  and  tailor- 
ing, drawing-room  singing  and  drawing-room  dancing, 
any  more  than  by  bad  ventilation  and  unwholesome  hours 
and  food,  not  to  mention  polite  dram  drinking,  and  the 
round  of  cruelties  they  call  sport.  I  found  that  the  mo- 
ment I  refused  to  accept  the  habits  of  the  rich  as  stand- 
ards of  refinement  and  propriety,  the  whole  illusion  of 
their  superiority  vanished  at  once.  When  I  married  Ma- 
rian I  was  false  to  my  class.  I  had  a  sort  of  idea  that 
my  early  training  had  accustomed  me  to  a  degree  of  artis- 
tic culture  that  I  could  not  easily  find  in  a  working  girl, 
and  that  would  be  quite  natural  to  Marian.  I  soon  found 
that  she  had  the  keenest  sense  of  what  was  ladylike, 
and  no  sense  of  what  was  beautiful  at  all.  A  draw- 
ing, a  photograph,  or  an  engraving  sensibly  framed  with- 
out a  white  mount  round  it  to  spoil  it  pained  her  as  much 
as  my  wrists  without  cuffs  on  them.  No  mill  girl  could 
have  been  less  in  sympathy  with  me  on  the  very  points 
for  which  I  had  preferred  her  to  the  mill  girls.  The 
end  of  it  was  that  I  felt  that  love  had  made  me  do  a 
thoroughly  vulgar  thing — marry  beneath  me.  These 
aristocratic  idle  gentlemen  will  never  be  shamed  out  of 

340 


The    Irrational    Knot 

their  laziness  and  low-mindedness  until  the  democratic 
working  gentlemen  refuse  to  associate  with  them  instead 
of  running  after  them  and  licking  their  boots.  I  am 
heartily  glad  now  to  be  out  of  their  set  and  rid  of  them, 
instead  of  having  to  receive  them  civilly  in  my  house 
for  Marian's  sake.  The  whole  business  was  strangling 
me :  the  strain  of  keeping  my  feeling  to  myself  was  more 
than  you  can  imagine.  Do  you  know  that  there  have 
been  times  when  I  have  been  so  carried  away  with  the 
idea  that  she  must  be  as  tired  of  the  artificiality  of  our 
life  as  I  was,  that  I  have  begun  to  speak  my  mind  frankly 
to  her;  and  when  she  recoiled,  hurt  and  surprised  and 
frightened  that  I  was  going  to  turn  coarse  at  last,  I  have 
shut  up  and  sat  there  apparently  silent,  but  really  saying 
under  my  breath :  '  Why  dont  you  go  ?  Why  dont  you 
leave  me,  vanish,  fly  away  to  your  own  people?  You 
must  be  a  dream :  I  never  married  you.  You  dont  know 
me:  you  cant  be  my  wife:  your  lungs  were  not  made  to 
breathe  the  air  I  live  in.'  I  have  said  a  thousand  things 
5ke  that,  and  then  wondered  whether  there  was  any  truth 
in  telepathy — whether  she  iould  possibly  be  having  my 
thoughts  transferred  to  her  mind  and  thinking  it  only  her 
imagination.  I  would  ask  myself  whether  I  despised  her 
or  not,  calling  on  myself  for  the  truth  as  if  I  did  not 
believe  the  excuses  I  made  for  her  out  of  the  fondness 
I  could  not  get  over.  I  am  fond!  of  her  still,  sometimes. 
I  did  not  really — practically,  I  mean — despise  her  until 


I  gave  up  thinking  about  her  at 
tain  kind  of  contempt  in   that 
doubt :  there  is  no  use  denying  it. 


all.  There  was  a  cer- 
ndifference,  beyond  a 
Besides,  it  is  proved  to 


me  now  by  the  new  respect  I  fe>el  for  her  because  she 
has  had  the  courage  and  grit  to  try  going  away  with 
Douglas.  But  myt  love  for  her  is  (xver:  nothing  short  of 


The    Irrational    Knot 

her  being  born  over  again — a  thing  that  sometimes  hap- 
pens— will  ever  bring  her  into  contact  with  me  after  this. 
To  put  it  philosophically,  she  made  the  mistake  of  avoid- 
ing all  realities,  and  yet  marrying  herself  to  the  hardest 
of  realities,  a  working  man;  so  it  was  inevitable  that 
she  should  go  back  at  last  to  the  region  of  shadows  and 
mate  with  that  ghostliest  of  all  unrealities,  the  non-work- 
ing man.  Perhaps,  too,  the  union  may  be  more  fruitful 
than  ours :  the  cross  between  us  was  too  violent.  Now 
you  have  the  whole  story  from  my  point  of  view.  What 
do  you " 

"  Hush !  "  said  Elinor,  interrupting  him.  "  What  is 
that  noise  outside  ?  " 

The  house  bell  began  to  ring  violently ;  and  they  could 
hear  a  confused  noise  of  voices  and  footsteps  without. 

"  Can  she  have  come  back  ?  "  said  Elinor,  starting  up. 

"  Impossible !  "  said  Conolly,  looking  disturbed  for  the 
first  time.  They  stood  a  moment  listening,  with  averted 
eyes.  A  second  peal  from  the  bell  was  followed  by  roars 
of  laughter,  amid  which  a  remonstrant  voice  was  audible. 
Then  the  house  door  was  hammered  with  a  stick.  Con- 
oily  ran  downstairs  at  once  and  opened  it.  On  the  step 
he  found  Marmaduke  reeling  in  the  arms  of  the  Rev. 
George. 

"  How  are  you,  ol'  fler  ?  "  said  Marmaduke,  plunging 
into  the  hall.  "  The  parson  is  tight.  I  found  him  tum- 
bling about  High  Street,  and  brought  him  along." 

"  Pray  excuse  this  intrusion,"  whispered  the  Rev. 
George.  "  You  see  th'e  state  he  is  in.  He  accosted  me 
near  Campden  Hill;  and  I  really  could  not  be  seen  walk- 
ing with  him  into  town.  I  wonder  he  was  not  arrested." 

"  He  is  the  worse  for  drink;  but  he  is  sober  enough 
to  know  how  to  amuse  himself  at  your  expense,"  said 

342 


The    Irrational    Knot 

Conolly,  aloud.  "  Come  up  to  the  laboratory.  Miss 
McQuinch  is  there." 

"  But  he  is  not  fit,"  urged  the  clergyman.  "  Look  at 
him  trying  to  hang  up  his  hat.  How  absurd — I  should 
rather  say  how  deplorable !  I  assure  you  he  is  perfectly 
tipsy.  He  has  been  ringing  the  bells  of  the  houses, 
and  requesting  females  to  accompany  us.  Better  warn 
Elinor." 

"  Nonsense!"  said  Conolly.  "  I  have  some  news  that 
will  sober  him.  Here  is  Miss  McQuinch.  Are  you 
going?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Elinor.  "  I  should  lose  my  patience  if 
I  had  to  listen  to  George's  comments ;  and  I  am  tired.  I 
would  rather  go." 

"  Not  yet,  Nelly.  Wont  urn  stay  and  talk  to  urn's 
Marmadukes  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go,"  said  Elinor,  snatching  away  her  hand, 
which  he  had  seized.  "  You  ought  to  be  at  home  in  bed. 
You  are  a  sot."  At  this  Marmaduke  laughed  boister- 
ously. She  passed  him  contemptuously,  and  left.  The 
three  men  then  went  up-stairs,  Marmaduke  dropping  his 
pretence  of  drunkenness  under  the  influence  of  Conolly's 
presence. 

"  Marian  is  not  in,  I  presume,"  said  the  clergyman, 
when  they  were  seated. 

"  No."  said  Conolly.     "  She  has  eloped  with  Douglas." 

They  stared  at  him.  Then  Marmaduke  gave  a  long 
whistle ;  and  the  clergyman  rose,  pale.  "  What  do  you 
mean,  sir  ?  "  he  said. 

Conolly  did  not  answer;  and  the  Rev.  George  slowly 
sat  down  again. 

"  Well,  I'm  damned  sorry  for  it,"  said  Marmaduke, 

343 


The    Irrational    Knot 

emphatically.  "  It  was  a  mean  thing  for  Douglas  to  do, 
with  all  his  brag  about  his  honor." 

The  Rev.  George  covered  his  face  with  his  handker- 
chief and  sobbed. 

"  Come,  shut  up,  old  fellow;  and  dont  make  an  ass  of 
yourself,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  What  are  you  going  to 
do,  Conolly  ?  " 

"  I  must  simply  divorce  her." 

"  Go  for  heavy  damages,  Conolly.  Knock  a  few  thou- 
sand out  of  him,  just  to  punish  him." 

"  He  could  easily  afford  it.  Besides,  why  should  I 
punish  him  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,"  cried  the  clergyman,  "  you  must 
not  dream  of  a  divorce.  I  implore  you  to  abandon  such 
an  idea.  Consider  the  disgrace,  the  impiety!  The  pub- 
licity would  kill  my  father." 

Conolly  shook  his  head. 

"  There  is  no  such  thing  as  divorce  known  to  the 
Church.  '  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let  no  man 
put  asunder.'  " 

"  She  had  no  right  to  bolt,"  said  Marmaduke.  "  Thats 
certain." 

"  I  was  married  by  a  registrar,"  said  Conolly ;  "  and  as 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  civil  marriage  known  to  the 
Church,  our  union,  from  the  ecclesiastical  point  of  view, 
has  no  existence.  We  were  not  joined  by  God,  in  fact, 
in  your  sense.  To  deny  her  the  opportunity  of  remarry- 
ing would  be  to  compel  her  to  live  as  an  adulteress  in  the 
eye  of  the  law,  which,  by  the  bye,  would  make  me  the 
father  of  Douglas's  children.  I  cannot,  merely  because 
your  people  are  afraid  of  scandai,  take  such  a  revenge  on 
Marian  as  to  refuse  her  the  freedom  she  has  sarcificed  so 
much  for.  After  all,  since  our  marriage  has  proved 

344 


The    Irrational    Knot 

a  childless  one,  the  only  reason  for  our  submitting  to  be 
handcuffed  to  one  another,  now  that  our  hearts  are  no 
longer  in  the  arrangement,  is  gone." 

"  The  game  began  at  Sark,"  said  Marmaduke.  "Doug- 
las stuck  to  her  there  like  a  leech.  He's  been  about  the 
house  here  a  good  deal  since  she  came  back.  I  often  won- 
dered you  didnt  kick  him  out.  But,  of  course,  it  was  not 
my  business  to  say  anything.  Was  she  huffed  into  going  ? 
You  hadnt  any  row  with  her  just  before,  had  you?  " 

"  We  never  had  rows." 

"  That  was  your  mistake,  Conolly.  You  should  have 
heard  poor  Susanna  and  me  fighting.  We  always  ended 
by  swearing  we  would  never  speak  to  one  another 
again.  Nothing  duller  than  a  smooth  life.  If  you  had 
given  Marian  something  to  complain  of,  she  would  have 
been  too  much  taken  up  with  it  to  bother  about  Douglas." 

"  But  have  you  ascertained  whither  they  have  gone  ?  " 
said  the  clergyman,  distractedly.  "  Will  you  not  follow 
them  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  their  movements.  Probably  they 
are  crossing  to  New  York." 

"  But  surely  you  ought  'to  follow  her,"  said  the  Rev. 
George.  "  You  may  yet  be  in  time  to  save  her  from 
worse  than  death." 

"  Yah !  "  said  Marmaduke.  "  Drop  all  that  rot,  George. 
Worse  than  death  be  hanged!  Serves  the  family  right! 
They  are  a  jolly  sight  too  virtuous :  it  will  do  them  good 
to  get  shewn  up  a  bit." 

"  If  you  have  no  respect  for  the  convictions  of  a  priest," 
exclaimed  the  Rev.  George,  shedding  tears,  "  you  might 
at  least  be  silent  in  the  presence  of  a  heartbroken  brother 
and  husband." 

"  Oh,  I  dont  want  to  shew  any  want  of  consideration 

345 


The    Irrational    Knot 

for  you  or  Conolly,"  said  Marmaduke,  sulkily.  "  No 
doubt  it's  rough  on  you.  But  as  to  the  feelings  of  the 
family,  I  tell  you  flatly  that  I  dont  care  if  the  whole 
crew  were  brought  to  the  Old  Bailey  to-morrow  and 
convicted  of  bigamy.  It  would  take  the  conceit  out  of 
them." 

"  I  know  not  how  to  break  this  wretched  news  to  my 
father,"  said  the  Rev.  George,  turning  disconsolately  from 
his  sottish  cousin  to  Conolly. 

"  It  is  no  such  uncommon  occurrence.  The  less  fuss 
made  about  it  the  better.  She  is  not  to  blame,  and  I 
shall  not  be  heard  crying  out  misery  and  disgrace.  Your 
family  can  very  well  follow  my  example.  I  have  nothing 
to  say  against  her,  and  I  believe  she  has  nothing  to  say 
against  me.  Nothing  can  prevent  such  publicity  as  a 
petition  for  divorce  must  entail.  Your  father  will  sur- 
vive it,  never  fear." 

The  clergyman,  remembering  how  vainly  he  had  tried 
to  change  Conolly's  intention  when  Marian  was  to  be 
married,  felt  that  he  should  succeed  no  better  now  that 
she  was  to  be  divorced.  Silent  and  cast  down,  he  sat 
dangling  his  handkerchief  between  his  knees  and  leaning 
forward  on  his  elbows  toward  the  fire. 

"  You  must  excuse  me  if  I  see  my  way  straight  through 
to  the  end.  I  daresay  you  would  rather  realize  it  gradu- 
ally, inevitable  as  it  is,"  added  Conolly,  looking  down 
with  some  pity  at  his  drooping  figure.  "  I  cannot  help 
my  habit  of  mind.  When  are  you  going  to  be  married  ?  " 
he  continued,  to  Marmaduke. 

"  I  dont  know.  The  Countess  is  in  a  hurry.  I'm  not. 
But  I  suppose  it  will  be  some  time  in  spring." 

"  You  have  made  up  your  mind  to  it  at  last  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  never  had  any  particular  objection  to  it,  only 

346 


The    Irrational    Knot 

I  dont  like  to  be  hunted  into  a  corner.  Conny  is  a  good 
little  girl,  and  will  make  a  steady  wife.  I  dont  like  her 
mother ;  but  as  for  herself,  she  is  fond  of  me;  and  after 
all,  I  did  lead  her  a  dance  long  ago.  Besides,  old  boy, 
the  Earl  is  forking  out  handsomely ;  and  as  I  have  some 
notion  of  settling  down  to  farm,  his  dust  will  come  in 
conveniently  as  capital." 

The  clergyman  rose,  and  slowly  pulled  on  his  woolen 
gloves. 

"  If  youre  going,  I  will  see  you  part  of  the  way,"  said 
Marmaduke.  "  I'll  cheer  you  up.  You  know  you  neednt 
tell  the  governor  until  to-morrow." 

"  I  had  rather  go  alone,  if  you  intend  to  behave  as  you 
did  before." 

"  Never  fear.  I'm  as  sober  as  a  judge  now.  Come 
along.  Away  with  melancholy!  Youll  have  Douglas 
for  a  brother-in-law  before  this  time  next  year." 

This  seemed  to  have  been  in  the  clergyman's  mind; 
for  he  shook  hands  with  his  host  more  distantly  than 
usual.  When  they  were  gone,  Conolly  went  to  the 
laboratory,  and  rang  for  his  neglected  dinner,  which  he 
ate  with  all  a  traveller's  appetite.  From  the  dinner  table 
he  went  straight  to  the  organ,  and  played  until  a  little 
before  midnight,  when,  after  a  brief  turn  in  the  open 
air,  he  retired  to  bed,  and  was  soon  quietly  asleep. 


347 


BOOK    IV 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

MISS  McQUINCH  spent  Christmas  morning  in 
her  sitting-room  reading  a  letter  which  had 
come  by  the  morning  post.  It  was  dated  the 
i/th  December  at  New  York:  and  the  formal  beginning 
and  ending  were  omitted.  This  was  an  old  custom  be- 
tween Marian  and  her  cousin.  In  their  girlish  corre- 
spondence they  had  expressed  their  affection  by  such 
modes  of  address  as  "  My  darling  Marian,"  and  "  My 
dearest  Nelly."  Subsequently  they  became  oppressed  by 
these  ceremonies  and  dropped  them.  Thereafter  their 
letters  contained  only  the  matter  to  be  communicated  and 
the  signature. 

"  You  are  the  only  person  in  England,"  wrote  Marian, 
"  to  whom  I  dare  write  now.  A  month  ago  I  had  more 
correspondents  than  I  had  time  to  answer.  Do  you 
know,  Nelly,  I  hesitated  before  commencing  this  letter, 
lest  you  should  no  longer  care  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  me.  That  may  have  been  an  unworthy  thought 
for  a  friend:  but  it  was  an  unavoidable  one  for  a  woman. 

"And  now  comes  the  great  vain  question:  What  does 
everybody  say?  Oh,  if  I  could  only  disembody  myself; 
fly  back  to  London  for  a  few  hours;  and  listen  invisibly 
to  society  talking  about  me.  I  know  this  is  mean:  but 
one  must  fill  up  life  with  some  mean  curiosities.  So 
please  tell  me  what  kind  of  sensation  I  have  caused. 
Just  the  usual  one,  I  suppose.  Half  the  people  never 
would  have  thought  it;  and  the  other  half  knew  all 
along  what  it  would  come  to.  Well,  I  do  not  care 
much  about  the  world  in  general;  but  I  cannot  quiet 

351 


The   Irrational   Knot 

my  conscience  on  the  subject  of  my  father  and  George. 
It  must  be  very  hard  on  papa  that,  after  being  disap- 
pointed in  rny  marriage  and  having  suffered  long  ago 
from  what  my  mother  did,  he  should  now  be  disgraced 
by  his  daughter.  For  disgraced,  alas!  is  the  word.  I 
am  afraid  poor  George's  prospects  must  be  spoiled 
by  the  scandal,  which,  I  know  well,  must  be  terrible. 
I  thought  my  first  duty  was  to  leave  Ned  free,  and 
to  free  myself,  at  all  hazards ;  and  so  I  did  not  dwell  on 
the  feelings  and  interests  of  others  as  much  as  I  perhaps 
ought  to  have  done.  There  is  one  point  about  which  I 
am  especially  anxious.  It  never  occurred  to  me  before 
I  went  that  people  might  say  that  my  going  was  Ned's 
fault,  and  that  he  had  treated  me  badly.  You  must  con- 
tradict this  with  all  your  might  and  main  if  you  hear  it 
even  hinted  at. 

"  There  is  no  use  in  putting  off  the  confession  any 
longer,  Nelly:  I  have  made  an  utter  fool  of  myself.  / 
wish  I  were  back  with  Ned  again.  There!  what  do  you 
think  of  that?  Now  for  another  great  confession,  and 

a  most  humiliating  one.     Sholto  is  a I  dont  know 

what  epithet  is  fair.  I  suppose  I  have  no  right  to  call 
him  an  impostor  merely  because  we  were  foolish  enough 
to  overrate  him.  But  I  can  hardly  believe  now  that  we 
ever  really  thought  that  there  were  great  qualities  and 
powers  latent  beneath  his  proud  reserve.  Ned,  I  know, 
never  believed  in  Sholto ;  and  I,  in  my  infinite  wisdom, 
set  that  down  to  his  not  understanding  him.  Ned  was 
right,  as  usual.  If  you  want  to  see  how  selfish  people 
are,  and  how  skin-deep  fashionable  politeness  is,  take 
a  voyage.  Go  with  a  picked  company  of  the  nice  people 
you  have  met  for  an  hour  or  so  at  a  dinner  or  an  at-home; 
and  see  how  different  they  will  appear  when  they  have 
been  cooped  up  in  a  ship  with  you  day  and  night  for  a 
week.  An  ocean  steamer  is  the  next  worst  thing  to  the 
Palace  of  Truth.  Poor  Sholto  did  not  stand  the  ordeal. 
He  was  ridiculously  distant  in  his  manner  to  the  rest  of 
the  passengers,  and  in  little  matters  at  table  and  so 
forth  he  was  really  just  as  selfish  as  he  could  be.  He 
was  impatient  because  I  was  ill  the  first  two  days,  and 

352 


The  Irrational  Knot 

afterwards  he  seemed  to  think  that  I  ought  not  to  speak 
to  anyone  but  himself.  The  doctor,  who  was  very  at- 
tentive to  me,  was  his  particular  aversion;  and  it  was 
on  his  account  that  we  had  our  first  quarrel,  the  upshot 
of  which  was  a  scene  between  them,  which  I  overheard. 
One  very  fine  day,  when  all  the  passengers  were  on  deck, 
Sholto  met  the  doctor  in  the  saloon,  and  offered  him  a 
guinea  for  his  attendance  on  me,  telling  him  in  the  most 
offensively  polite  way  that  I  would  not  trouble  him  for 
any  further  services.  The  doctor  retorted  very  promptly 
and  concisely ;  and  though  what  he  said  was  not  dignified, 
I  sympathized  with  him,  and  took  care  to  be  very  friendly 
with  him  at  dinner.  (Meals  take  place  on  board  ship 
at  intervals  of  ten  minutes:  it  is  horrifying  to  see  the 
quantity  of  food  the  elderly  people  consume.)  To  pre- 
vent further  hostilities  I  took  care  to  be  always  in 
the  way  when  the  doctor  encountered  Sholto  afterwards. 
I  cannot  imagine  Ned  involving  himself  in  such  a  paltry 
squabble.  It  is  odd  how  things  come  about.  I  used 
to  take  Sholto's  genius  for  granted,  and  think  a  great 
deal  of  it.  In  another  sense,  I  used  to  take  Ned's 
genius  for  granted,  and  think  nothing  of  it.  Now  I 
have  found  out  in  a  single  fortnight  that  we  saw  all  of 
Sholto  that  there  was  to  be  seen.  His  reserves  of  talent 
existed  only  in  our  imagination.  He  has  absolutely  no 
sense  of  humor;  and  he  is  always  grumbling.  Neither 
the  servants,  nor  the  food,  nor  the  rooms,  nor  the  wine, 
satisfy  him.  Imagine  how  this  comes  home  to  me,  who, 
from  not  having  heard  grumbling  for  two  years,  had 
forgotten  that  men  ever  were  guilty  of  it.  I  flirted  a 
little,  a  very  little,  with  the  doctor;  not  because  I  meant 
anything  serious,  but  because  it  amused  me  and  made 
the  trip  pleasant.  Sholto  will  not  understand  this.  One 
day,  on  board,  I  was  indiscreet  enough  to  ask  Sholto  the 
use  of  a  piece  of  machinery  belonging  to  the  ship.  Ned 
would  have  known,  or,  if  he  had  not,  would  very  soon 
have  found  out.  Sholto  didnt  know,  and  was  weak 
enough  to  pretend  that  he  did;  so  he  snubbed  me  by 
saying  that  I  could  not  understand  it.  This  put  me  on 
my  mettle;  and  I  asked  the  surgeon  that  afternoon  about 


The    Irrational    Knot 

it.  The  surgeon  didnt  know,  and  said  so;  but  he  ap- 
pealed to  the  first  officer,  who  explained  it.  I  intended 
to  revenge  myself  on  Sholto  by  retailing  the  explanation 
to  him  next  day;  but  unfortunately,  whether  through 
the  first  officer's  want  of  perspicuity  or  my  own  stu- 
pidity, I  was  not  a  bit  the  wiser  for  the  explanation. 

"  I  can  tell  you  nothing  as  to  what  we  are  likely  to 
do  next.  As  Sholto  has  given  up  all  his  prospects  for 
me,  I  cannot  honorably  desert  him.  I  know  now  that 
I  have  ruined  myself  for  nothing,  and  I  must  at  least 
try  to  hide  from  him  that  he  has  done  likewise.  I  can 
see  that  he  is  not  happy;  but  he  tries  so  desperately 
to  persuade  himself  that  he  is,  and  clings  so  to  the  idea 
that  the  world  is  well  lost  for  me,  that  I  have  not  the 
heart  to  undeceive  him.  So  we  are  still  lovers;  and, 
cynical  though  it  sounds,  I  make  him  a  great  deal  happier 
in  my  insincerity  than  I  could  if  I  really  loved  him, 
because  I  humor  him  with  a  cunning  quite  incompatible 
with  passion.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  being  still  sincere, 
tries  my  patience  terribly  with  his  jealousies  and  impor- 
tunities. As  he  has  nothing  to  do,  he  is  almost  always 
with  me;  and  a  man  who  has  no  office  to  go  to — I 
dont  care  who  he  is — is  a  trial  of  which  you  can  have 
no  conception.  So  much  for  our  present  relations.  But 
I  fear — indeed  I  know — that  they  will  not  last  long.  I 
dare  not  look  steadily  at  the  future.  In  spite  of  all  that 
he  has  sacrificed  for  me,  I  cannot  live  forever  with  him. 
There  are  times  at  which  he  inspires  me  with  such  a 
frenzy  of  aversion  and  disgust  that  I  have  to  put  the 
strongest  constraint  upon  myself  to  avoid  betraying  my 
feelings  to  him.  We  intended  going  to  the  West  Indies 
direct  from  here,  in  search  of  some  idyllic  retreat  where 
we  could  live  alone  together.  He  still  entertains  this 
project;  but  as  I  have  totally  abandoned  it  I  put  him 
off  with  some  pretext  for  remaining  here  whenever  he 
mentions  it.  I  have  only  one  hope  of  gaining  a  sepa- 
ration without  being  open  to  the  reproach  of  having 
deserted  him.  You  remember  how  we  disputed  that 
Saturday  about  the  merits  of  a  grand  passion,  which  I 
so  foolishly  longed  for.  Well,  I  have  tried  it,  and 

354 


The    Irrational    Knot 

proved  it  to  be  a  lamentable  delusion,  selfish,  obstinate, 
blind,  intemperate,  and  transient.  As  it  has  evaporated 
from  me,  so  it  will  evaporate  from  Sholto  in  the  course 
of  time.  It  would  have  done  so  already,  but  that  his 
love  was  more  genuine  than  mine.  When  the  time 
comes,  he  will  get  rid  of  me  without  the  least  remorse; 
and  so  he  will  have  no  excuse  for  reviving  his  old  com- 
plaints of  my  treachery. 

"  One  new  and  very  disagreeable  feature  in  my  exist- 
ence, which  I  had  partly  prepared  myself  for,  is  the 
fear  of  detection.  We  sailed  before  our  flight  had  be- 
come public ;  and  as  there  was  fortunately  no  one  on 
board  who  knew  us,  I  had  a  nine  days'  respite,  and  could 
fearlessly  approach  the  other  women,  who,  I  suppose, 
would  not  have  spoken  to  me  had  they  known  the  truth. 
But  here  it  is  different.  Ned's  patents  are  so  much  more 
extensively  worked  here  than  in  England,  and  the  people 
are  so  go-ahead,  that  they  take  a  great  interest  in  him, 
and  are  proud  of  him  as  an  American.  The  news  got 
into  the  papers  a  few  days  after  we  arrived.  To  appre- 
ciate the  full  significance  of  this,  you  should  know  what 
American  newspapers  are.  One  of  them  actually  printed 
a  long  account  of  my  going  away,  with  every  paragraph 
headed  in  large  print,  '  Domestic  Unhappiness,'  '  The 
Serpent  in  the  Laboratory,'  '  The  Temptation,'  '  The 
Flight,'  '  The  Pursuit,'  and  so  on,  all  invented,  of  course. 
Other  papers  give  the  most  outrageous  anecdotes.  Old 
jokes  are  revived  and  ascribed  to  us.  I  am  accused  of 
tearing  his  hair  out,  and  he  of  coming  home  late  at  nights 
drunk.  Two  portraits  of  ferocious  old  women  supposed 
to  be  Ned's  mother-in-law  have  been  published.  The 
latest  version  appeared  in  a  Sunday  paper,  and  is  quite 
popular  in  this  hotel.  According  to  it,  Ned  was  in  the 
habit  of  '  devoting  me  to  science '  by  trying  electrical 
experiments  on  me.  '  This/  the  account  says,  '  was  kind 
of  rough  on  the  poor  woman.'  The  day  before  I 
'  scooted,'  a  new  machine  appeared  before  the  house, 
drawn  by  six  horses.  '  What  are  them  men  foolin' 
round  with,  Mr.  C.?'  said  I.  'That's  hubby's  latest,' 
replied  Ned.  '  I  guess  it's  the  boss  electro-dynamic  fixin' 

355 


The    Irrational    Knot 

in  the  universe.  Full  charge  that  battery  with  a  pint  of 
washing  soda,  an'  you'll  fetch  up  a  current  fit  to  ravage 
a  cont'nent.  You  shall  have  a  try  t'morro'  mornin',  Sal. 
Youre  better  seasoned  to  it  than  most  Britishers;  but 
if  it  dont  straighten  your  hair  and  lift  the  sparks  outer 

your  eyelashes ! '     '  You  bet  it  wont,  Mr.  C.,'  said  I. 

That  night  (this  is  only  what  the  paper  says,  mind)  I 
stole  out  of  bed ;  arranged  the  wires  on  each  side  of  Ned 
so  that  if  he  stirred  an  inch  he  would  make  contact ; 
charged  the  battery ;  and  gently  woke  him,  saying,  '  Mr. 
C.,  love,  dont  stir  for  your  life.  Them  things  that's 
ticklin'  your  whiskers  is  the  conductors  of  that  boss  fixin' 
o'  yourn.  If  I  was  you,  I'd  lie  still  until  the  battery  runs 
down.'  '  Darn  it  all,'  said  Ned,  afraid  to  lift  his  lips  for 
a  shout,  and  coming  out  in  cold  water  all  over  the  fore- 
head, '  it  wont  run  down  for  a  week  clear.'  '  That'll 
answer  me  nicely,'  I  replied.  '  Good-bye,  Mr.  C.  Young 
Douglas  from  the  corner  grocery  is  waitin'  for  me  with 
a  shay  down  the  avenue.'  I  cannot  help  laughing  at 
these  things,  but  they  drive  Sholto  frantic.  He  is  al- 
ways described  in  them  as  a  young  man  from  some  shop 
or  other.  He  tries  hard,  out  of  delicacy,  to  keep  the 
papers  which  contain  them  away  from  me;  but  I  hear 
about  them  at  breakfast,  and  buy  -them  downstairs  in 
the  hall  for  myself.  Another  grievance  of  Sholto's  is 
that  I  will  not  have  meals  privately.  But  my  dislike  to 
being  always  alone  with  him  is  greater  than  my  dread 
that  my  secret  will  leak  out,  and  that  some  morning  I 
shall  see  in  the  people's  faces  that  the  Mrs.  Forster  who 
has  so  often  been  regaled  with  the  latest  account  of  the 
great  scandal,  is  no  other  than  the  famous  Mrs.  Conolly. 
That  evil  day  will  come,  sooner  or  later ;  but  I  had  rather 
face  it  in  one  of  these  wonderful  hotels  than  in  a  board- 
ing-house, which  I  might  be  asked  to  leave.  As  to  taking 
a  house  of  our  own,  I  shrink  from  any  such  permanent 
arrangement.  We  are  noticed  a  good  deal.  Sholto  is, 
of  course,  handsome  and  distinguished ;  and  people  take 
a  fancy  to  me  just  as  they  used  to  long  ago.  I  was  once 
proud  of  this ;  but  now  it  is  a  burden  to  me.  For  in- 
stance, there  was  a  Mrs.  Crawford  staying  here  with  her 

356 


The   Irrational    Knot 

husband,  a  general,  who  has  just  built  a  house  here.  She 
was  so  determined  to  know  me  that  I  found  it  hard  to  keep 
her  off  without  offending  her.  At  last  she  got  ill;  and 
then  I  felt  justified  in  nursing  her.  Sholto  was  very 
sulky  because  I  did  so,  and  wanted  to  know  what  business 
it  was  of  mine.  I  did  not  trouble  myself  about  his  anger, 
and  Mrs.  Crawford  was  well  in  two  days.  In  fact,  I 
think  Sholto  was  right  in  saying  that  she  had  only  over- 
eaten herself.  After  that  I  could  avoid  her  no  longer, 
and  she  was  exceedingly  kind  to  me.  She  wanted  to 
introduce  me  to  all  her  New  York  friends,  and  begged 
me  to  leave  the  hotel  and  go  to  her  new  mansion.  There 
was  plenty  of  room  for  us,  she  said.  I  did  not  know 
what  to  say.  I  could  not  repay  her  kindness  by  going 
to  her  house  under  false  colors,  and  letting  her  introduce 
me  to  her  circle;  and  yet  I  could  make  no  reasonable 
excuse.  At  last,  seeing  that  she  attributed  my  refusals 
to  pride,  I  told  her  plainly  that  if  her  friends  were  to 
learn  my  history  by  any  accident  they  might  not  thank 
her  for  the  introduction.  She  was  quite  confounded ; 
but  she  did  not  abate  her  kindness  in  the  least,  although 
my  reservation  of  confidence  in  only  giving  her  a  hint 
of  the  truth,  checked  her  advances.  You  may  think  this 
an  insane  indiscretion  on  my  part;  but  if  you  knew  how 
often  I  have  longed  to  stand  up  before  everybody  and 
proclaim  who  I  am,  and  so  get  rid  of  the  incubus  of  a 
perpetual  falsehood,  you  would  not  be  so  much  surprised. 
There  is  one  unspeakable  blessing  in  American  law.  It 
is  quite  easy  to  obtain  a  divorce.  One  can  get  free  with- 
out sacrificing  everything  except  bare  existence.  I  do 
not  care  what  anybody  may  argue  to  the  contrary,  our 
marriage  laws  are  shameful. 

"  I  shall  expect  to  hear  from  you  very  soon.  If  you 
desert  me,  Nelly,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  friendship  in 
the  world.  I  want  particularly  to  know  what  Ned  did — 
as  far  as  you  know — when  he  heard  the  news.  Is  papa 
very  angry?  And,  above  all,  could  you  find  out  how 
Mrs.  Douglas  is?  I  thought  that  Sholto  would  be  un- 
easy and  remorseful  about  her;  but  he  does  not  really 
care  ftalf  so  much  as  I  do.  How  selfish  I  have  been! 

357 


The    Irrational    Knot 

I  used  to  flatter  myself  that  I  was  thoughtful  for  oth- 
ers because  I  made  a  habit — a  detestably  self-conscious 
habit — of  being  considerate  in  trifles.  And  in  the  end, 
after  being  so  vain-gloriously  attentive  to  the  momentary 
comfort  of  all  connected  with  me,  I  utterly  forgot  them 
and  thought  only  of  myself  when  their  whole  happiness 
was  concerned.  I  never  knew  how  high  I  stood  in  my 
own  estimation  until  I  found  how  far  the  discovery  of 
my  folly  and  selfishness  made  me  fall.  Tell  me  every- 
thing. I  cannot  write  any  more  now.  My  eyes  are 
smarting:  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  writing  for  a  whole 
month  instead  of  two  days.  Good-bye  for  three  weeks. 

"  MARIAN." 

"  P.S.  I  have  just  learnt  from  a  very  severe  criticism 
in  one  of  the  papers  that  Mdlle.  Lalage  Virtue  has  failed 
here  completely.  I  fear  from  the  wording  that  her  un- 
fortunate habit  was  apparent  to  the  audience." 


358 


CHAPTER   XIX 

ON  a  cold  afternoon  in  January,  Sholto  Douglas 
entered  a  hotel  in  New  York,  and  ascended  to 
a  room  on  the  first  floor.  Marian  was  sitting 
there,  thinking,  with  a  letter  in  her  lap.  She  only  looked 
up  for  a  moment  when  he  entered;  and  he  plucked  off 
his  sealskin  gloves  and  threw  aside  his  overcoat  in  silence. 

"  It  is  an  infernal  day,"  he  said  presently. 

Marian  sighed,  and  roused  herself.  "  The  rooms  look 
cheerless  in  winter  without  the  open  fireplaces  we  are 
accustomed  to  in  England." 

"  Damn  the  rooms!"  he  muttered. 

Marian  took  up  her  letter  again. 

"  Do  you  know  that  he  has  filed  a  petition  for  di- 
vorce ?  "  he  said,  aggressively. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  might  have  mentioned  it  to  me.  Probably  you 
have  known  it  for  days  past." 

"  Yes.     I  thought  it  was  a  matter  of  course." 

"  Or  rather  you  did  not  think  at  all.  I  suppose  you 
would  have  left  me  in  ignorance  forever,  if  I  had  not 
heard  from  London  myself." 

"  Is  it  of  importance,  then  ?  " 

"  Certainly  it  is — of  vital  importance." 

"  Have  you  any  other  news  ?  From  whom  have  you 
heard?" 

"  I  have  received  some  private  letters." 

"  Oh !     I  beg  your  pardon." 

359 


The    Irrational    Knot 

Five  minutes  passed  in  silence.  He  looked  out  of 
the  window,  frowning.  She  sat  as  before. 

"  How  much  longer  do  you  intend  to  stay  in  this 
place  ? "  he  said,  turning  upon  her  suddenly. 

"In  New  York?" 

"  This  is  New  York,  I  believe." 

"  I  think  we  may  as  well  stay  here  as  anywhere  else." 

"  Indeed !  On  what  grounds  have  you  arrived  at  that 
cheering  conclusion  ?  " 

Marian  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  I  dont  know,"  she 
said. 

"  Nor  do  I.  You  do  not  seem  happy  here.  At  least, 
if  you  are,  you  fail  to  communicate  your  state  of  mind 
to  those  about  you." 

"  So  it  seems." 

"  What  does  that  mean?  " 

"  That  you  do  not  seem  to  be  happy  either." 

"  How  in  the  devil's  name  can  you  expect  me  to  be 
happy  in  this  city?  Do  you  think  it  is  pleasant  to  have 
no  alternative  to  the  society  of  American  men  except 
that  of  a  sulky  woman  ?  " 

"  Sholto !  "  said  Marian,  rising  quickly,  and  looking 
at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Spare  me  these  airs,"  he  said,  coldly.  "  You  will 
have  to  accustom  yourself  to  hear  the  truth  occasionally." 

She  sat  down  again.  "  I  am  not  giving  myself  airs," 
she  said,  earnestly.  "  I  am  astonished.  Have  I  really 
been  sulky?  " 

"  You  have  been  in  the  sulks  for  days  past ;  and  you 
are  in  them  at  this  moment." 

"  There  is  some  misunderstanding  between  us  then ; 
for  you  have  seemed  to  me  quite  cross  and  out  of  sorts 

360 


The    Irrational    Knot 

for  the  last  week ;  and  I  thought  you  were  out  of  temper 
when  you  came  in  just  now." 

"  That  is  rather  an  old-fashioned  retort." 

"  Sholto!  I  do  not  know  whether  you  intend  it  or  not ; 
but  you  are  speaking  very  slightingly  to  me." 

He  muttered  something,  and  walked  across  the  room 
and  back.  "  I  am  quite  clear  on  one  point  at  least,"  he 
said.  "  It  was  not  for  this  sort  of  thing  that  I  crossed  the 
Atlantic  with  you;  and  you  had  better  make  our  rela- 
tions more  agreeable  if  you  wish  me  to  make  them  per- 
manent." 

"  You  to  make  them  permanent  ?  I  do  not  under- 
stand." 

"  I  shall  not  shrink  from  explaining  myself.  If  your 
husband's  suit  is  undefended,  he  will  obtain  a  decree 
which  will  leave  you  a  single  woman  in  six  months. 
Now,  whatever  you  may  think  to  the  contrary,  there  is 
not  a  club  in  London  that  would  hold  me  in  any  way 
bound  to  marry  you  after  the  manner  in  which  you  have 
behaved.  Let  me  remind  you  that  your  future  position 
depends  on  your  present  conduct.  You  have  apparently 
forgotten  it." 

She  looked  at  him ;  and  he  went  back  to  the  window. 

"  My  husband's  suit  cannot  be  defended,"  she  said. 
"  Doubtless  you  will  act  according  to  the  dictates  of  the 
London  clubs." 

"  I  do  not  say  so,"  he  said,  turning  angrily.  "  I  shall 
act  according  to  the  dictates  of  my  own  common  sense. 
And  do  not  be  too  sure  that  the  petition  will  be  unop- 
posed. The  law  recognizes  the  plea  of  connivance." 

"  But  it  would  be  a  false  plea,"  said  Marian,  raising 
her  voice. 

"  I  shall  not  discuss  that  with  you.    Whether  your  hus- 


The    Irrational    Knot 

band  was  blind,  or  merely  kept  his  eyes  shut  will  not  be 
decided  by  us.  You  have  been  warned.  We  will  drop 
the  subject  now,  if  you  please." 

"Do  you  suppose,"  said  Marian,  with  a  bright  color 
in  her  cheeks,  "  that  after  what  you  have  said,  anything 
could  induce  me  to  marry  you  ?  " 

He  was  startled,  and  remained  for  a  moment  motion- 
less. Then  he  said,  in  his  usual  cold  tone,  "  As  you 
please.  You  may  think  better  of  it.  I  will  leave  you 
for  the  present.  When  we  meet  again,  you  will  be 
calmer." 

"  Yes,"  she  said.     "  Good-bye." 

Without  answering,  he  changed  his  coat  for  a  silk 
jacket,  transferred  his  cigar-case  to  a  pocket  in  it,  and 
went  out.  When  he  had  passed  the  threshold,  he  hesi- 
tated, and  returned. 

"  Why  do  you  say  good-bye  ?  "  he  said,  after  clearing 
his  throat  uneasily. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  leave  you  without  saying  it." 

"  I  hope  you  have  not  misunderstood  me,  Marian.  I 
did  not  mean  that  we  should  part." 

"  I  know  that.  Nevertheless,  we  shall  part.  I  will 
never  sleep  beneath  the  same  roof  with  you  again." 

"  Come!"  he  said,  shutting  the  door:  "  this  is  nonsense. 
You  are  out  of  temper." 

"  So  you  have  already  told  me,"  she  said,  becoming 
pale. 

"  Well,  but —  Marian:  perhaps  I  may  have  spoken 
rather  harshly  just  now ;  but  I  did  not  mean  you  to  take 
it  so.  You  must  be  reasonable." 

"  Pray  let  us  have  no  more  words  about  it.  I  need 
no  apologies,  and  desire  no  advances.  Good-bye  is 
enough." 

362 


The  Irrational  Knot 

"But,  Marian,"  said  he,  coming  nearer,  "you  must 
not  fancy  that  I  have  ceased  to  love  you." 

"Above  all,"  said  Marian,  "  let  us  have  no  more  of 
that.  You  say  you  hate  this  place  and  the  life  we  lead 
here.  I  am  heartily  sick  of  it,  and  have  been  so  for  a 
long  time." 

"  Let  us  go  elsewhere." 

"  Yes,  but  not  together.  One  word,"  she  added  reso- 
lutely, seeing  his  expression  become  fierce.  "  I  will  not 
endure  any  violence,  even  of  language,  from  you.  I 
know  of  old  what  you  are  when  you  lose  your  temper; 
and  if  you  insult  me  I  will  summon  aid,  and  proclaim 
who  I  am." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  strike  you  ?  " 

"  No,  because  you  dare  not.  But  I  will  not  listen  to 
oaths  or  abuse." 

"  What  have  you  to  complain  of  ?  What  is  your 
grievance  ?  " 

"  I  make  no  complaint.  I  exercise  the  liberty  I  bought 
so  dearly  to  go  where  I  please  and  do  what  I  please." 

"And  to  desert  me  when  I  have  sacrificed  everything 
for  you.  I  have  incurred  enormous  expenses;  alienated 
my  friends;  risked  my  position  in  society;  and  broken 
my  mother's  heart  for  your  sake." 

"  But  for  that  I  would  have  left  you  before.  I  am  very 
sorry." 

"  You  have  heard  something  in  that  letter  which  makes 
you  hope  that  your  husband  will  take  you  back.  Not  a 
woman  in  London  will  speak  to  you." 

"  I  tell  you  I  am  not  going  back.  Oh,  Sholto,  dont 
be  so  mean.  Can  we  not  part  with  dignity?  We  have 
made  a  mistake.  Let  us  acknowledge  it  quietly,  and  go 
our  several  ways." 

363 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  will  not  be  got  rid  of  so  easily  as  you  suppose," 
he  said,  his  face  darkening  menacingly.  "  Do  you  think 
I  believe  in  your  going  out  alone  from  this  hotel  and 
living  by  yourself  in  a  strange  city?  Come!  who  is  it?  " 

"  Who  is ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  What  new  connexion  have  you  formed  ?  You  were 
very  anxious  about  our  ship  returning  the  other  day — 
anxious  about  the  mails,  of  course.  Perhaps  also  about 
the  surgeon." 

"  I  understand.  You  think  I  am  leaving  you  to  go  to 
some  other  man.  I  will  tell  you  now  the  true  reason." 

"  Do,"  said  he,  sarcastically,  biting  his  lip. 

"  I  will.  I  am  leaving  you  because,  instead  of  loving 
you,  as  I  foolishly  thought  I  could,  I  neither  respect  nor 
even  like  you.  You  are  utterly  selfish  and  narrow-mind- 
ed; and  I  deserve  my  disappointment  for  having  de- 
serted for  your  sake  a  far  better  man.  I  am  sorry 
you  have  sacrified  so  much  for  me;  but  if  you  had  been 
worthy  of  a  woman's  regard,  you  would  not  have  lost 
me." 

Douglas  stared  at  her.  "/  selfish  and  narrow-mind- 
ed ! "  he  said,  with  the  calm  of  stupefaction. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  may  have  been  narrow-minded  in  devoting  myself 
so  entirely  to  you,"  said  he  slowly,  after  a  pause.  "  But, 
though  I  do  not  ask  for  gratitude,  I  think  I  have  been 
sufficiently  a  loser  to  disregard  such  a  monstrous  asser- 
tion as  that  I  am  selfish." 

"  You  show  your  selfishness  by  dwelling  on  what  you 
have  lost.  You  never  think  of  what  I  have  lost.  I 
make  no  profession  of  unselfishness.  I  am  suffering  for 
my  folly  and  egoism ;  and  I  deserve  to  suffer." 

"  In  what  way,  pray,  are  you  suffering  ?    You  came 

364 


The   Irrational   Knot 

here  because  you  had  a  wretched  home,  and  a  husband 
'who  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  you.  You  do  what  you  like, 
and  have  what  you  like.  Name  one  solitary  wish  of 
yours  that  has  not  been  silently  gratified." 

"  I  do  not  find  fault  with  you.  You  have  been  gener- 
ous in  supplying  me  with  luxuries  such  as  money  can 
obtain.  But  it  was  not  the  want  of  money  that  made 
me  fancy  my  home  wretched.  It  is  not  true  that  I  can 
do  as  I  like.  How  many  minutes  is  it  since  you  threat- 
ened to  cast  me  off  if  I  did  not  make  myself  agreeable 
to  you?  Can  you  boast  of  your  generosity  after  taunt- 
ing me  with  my  dependence  on  you  ?  " 

"  You  misunderstood  me,  Marian.  I  neither  boasted, 
nor  threatened,  nor  taunted.  I  have  even  apologized  for 
that  moment's  irritation.  If  you  cannot  forgive  such  a 
trifle,  you  yourself  can  have  very  little  generosity." 

"  Perhaps  not.  I  do  not  violently  resent  things ;  but 
I  cannot  forget  them,  nor  feel  as  I  did  before  they  hap- 
pened." 

"You  think  so  at  present.  Let  us  cease  this  bicker- 
ing. Lovers'  quarrels  should  not  be  carried  too  far." 

"  I  am  longing  to  cease  it.  It  worries  me ;  and  it  does 
not  alter  my  determination  in  the  least." 

"  Do  you  mean " 

"  I  do  mean.  Dont  look  at  me  like  that :  you  make 
me  angry  instead  of  frightening  me." 

"And  do  you  think  I  will  suffer  this  quietly  ?  " 

"  You  may  suffer  it  as  you  please,"  said  Marian,  step- 
ping quietly  to  the  wall,  and  pressing  a  button.  "  I  will 
never  see  you  again  if  I  can  help  it.  If  you  follow  me, 
or  persecute  me  in  any  way,  I  will  appeal  to  the  police 
for  protection  as  Mrs.  Conolly.  I  despise  you  more 
than  I  do  any  one  on  earth." 

365 


The  Irrational   Knot 

He  turned  away,  and  snatched  up  his  coat  and  hat. 
She  stood  apparently  watching  him  quietly,  but  really 
listening  with  quickened  heart  to  his  loud  and  irregular 
breathing.  As  he  opened  the  door  to  go  out,  he  was 
confronted  on  the  threshold  by  a  foreign  waiter. 

"  Vas  you  reeng  ?  "  said  the  waiter  doubtfully,  retreat- 
ing a  step. 

"  I  will  not  be  accountable  for  that  woman's  expenses 
from  this  time  forth,"  said  Douglas,  pointing  at  her, 
"  You  can  keep  her  at  your  own  risk,  or  turn  her  into 
the  streets  to  pursue  her  profession,  as  you  please." 

The  waiter,  smiling  vaguely,  looked  first  at  the  re- 
treating figure  of  Douglas,  and  then  at  Marian. 

"  I  want  another  room,  if  you  please,"  she  said.  "  One 
on  any  of  the  upper  floors  will  do;  but  I  must  have  my 
things  moved  there  at  once." 

Her  instructions  were  carried  out  after  some  parley. 
In  the  meantime,  Douglas's  man  servant  appeared,  and 
said  that  he  had  been  instructed  to  remove  his  master's 
luggage. 

"  Is  Mr.  Forster  leaving  the  hotel  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  dont  know  his  arrangements,  madam." 

"  I  guess  I  do,  then,"  said  a  sulky  man,  who  was  pre- 
paring to  wheel  away  Marian's  trunk.  "  He's  about  to 
shift  his  billet  to  the  Gran'  Central." 

Marian,  still  in  a  towering  rage,  sat  down  in  her  new 
room  to  consider  her  situation.  To  fix  her  attention, 
which  repeatedly  wandered  to  what  had  passed  between 
her  and  Douglas,  she  counted  her  money,  and  found 
that  she  had,  besides  a  twenty  pound  note  which  she 
had  brought  with  her  from  London,  only  a  few  loose 
dollars  in  her  purse.  Her  practice  in  housekeeping  at 
Westbourne  Terrace  and  Holland  Park  had  taught  her 

366 


The  Irrational   Knot 

the  value  of  money  too  well  to  let  her  suppose  that  she 
could  afford  to  remain  at  a  first  rate  American  hotel 
with  so  small  a  sum  in  her  possession.  At  home  Con- 
oily  had  made  her  keep  a  separate  banking  account ;  and 
there  was  money  to  her  credit  there ;  but  in  her  ignorance 
of  the  law,  she  was  not  sure  that  she  had  not  forfeited 
all  her  property  by  eloping.  She  resolved  to  move  at 
once  into  some  cheap  lodging,  and  to  live  economically 
until  she  could  ascertain  the  true  state  of  her  affairs,  or 
until  she  could  obtain  some  employment  to  support  her. 
She  faced  poverty  without  fear,  never  having  experi- 
enced it. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  afternoon  when  she  left  the 
hotel  and  drove  to  the  Crawfords'. 

"  So  you  have  come  at  last,"  cried  Mrs.  Crawford, 
who  was  fifty  years  of  age  and  stout,  but  leaner  in  the 
face  than  fat  Englishwomen  of  that  age  usually  are. 

"  I  just  expected  you'd  soon  git  tired  of  being  grand 
all  by  yourself  in  the  hotel  yonder." 

"  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  be  the  reverse  of  grand  all 
by  myself  in  some  very  shabby,  lodging,"  said  Marian. 
"  Dont  be  surprised  Mrs.  Crawford.  Can  one  live  in 
New  York  on  ten  dollars  a  week  ?  " 

"  You  cant  live  on  ten  dollars  a  week  in  New  York 
nor  on  a  hundred.  You  rode  here,  didnt  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course." 

"  Of  course.  If  you  have  only  ten  dollars  a  week 
you  should  have  walked.  I  know  the  sort  you  are,  Mrs. 
Forster.  You  wont  be  long  getting  rid  of  your  money, 
no  matter  where  you  live.  But  whats  wrong?  Hows 
your  husband  ?  " 

"  I  dont  know.  I  hope  he  is  quite  well,"  said  Marian, 
her  voice  trembling  a  little.  "  Mrs.  Crawford :  you  arc 

367 


The   Irrational   Knot 

the  only  friend  I  have  in  America;  and  you  have  been 
so  very  kind  to  me  that  since  I  must  trouble  some  one, 
I  have  ventured  to  come  to  you.  The  truth  is  that  I 
have  left  my  husband ;  and  I  have  only  about  one  hun- 
dred dollars  in  the  world.  I  must  live  on  that  until  I 
get  some  employment,  or  perhaps  some  money  of  my 
own  from  England." 

"  Chut,  child !  Nawnsnse !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Crawford, 
with  benevolent  intolerance.  "  You  go  right  back  to  your 
husband.  I  spose  youve  had  a  rumpus  with  him;  but 
you  mustnt  mind  that.  All  men  are  a  bit  selfish;  and  I 
should  say  from  what  I  have  seen  of  him  that  he  is  no 
exception  to  the  rule.  But  you  cant  have  perfection. 
He's  a  fine  handsome  fellow ;  and  he  knows  it.  And, 
as  for  you,  I  dont  know  what  they  reckon  you  in  Eng- 
land; but  youre  the  best-looking  woman  in  Noo  York: 
thats  surtn.  It's  a  pity  for  such  a  pair  to  fall  out." 

"  He  is  not  selfish,"  said  Marian.  "  You  never  saw 
him.  I  am  afraid  I  must  shock  you,  Mrs.  Crawford. 
Mr.  Forster  is  not  my  husband." 

"No!     Do!     Did  you  ever  tell  the  General  that?" 

"  General  Crawford !     Oh,  no." 

"  Think  of  that  man  being  cuter  than  me,  a  woman ! 
He  always  said  so.  And  the  grit  you  must  have,  to  tell 
it  out  as  cool  as  that!  Well!  I'm  sorry  to  hear  it 
though,  Mrs.  Forster.  It's  a  bad  account — a  very  bad 
one.  But  if  I  take  what  you  said  just  now  rightly, 
youre  married." 

"  I  am.    I  have  deserted  a  very  good  husband." 

"  It's  a  pity  you  didnt  find  that  out  a  little  sooner, 
isnt  it?" 

"  I  know,  Mrs.  Crawford.  I  thought  I  was  acting 
for  the  best." 

368 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Thought  you  were  acting  for  the  best  in  running 
away  from  a  good  husband!  Well,  you  British  aristo- 
crats are  singular.  You  throw  stones  at  us  because  our 
women  are  so  free  and  our  divorces  so  easy.  Yet  youre 
always  scandlizing  us;  and  now  you  tell  me  youve  done 
it  on  morl  grounds!  Who  educated  you,  child?  And 
what  do  you  intend  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  For  the  present,  only  to  get  a  lodging.  Will  you 
tell  me  where  I  should  look  for  one?  I  dont  know  the 
east  from  the  west  end  of  this  town ;  and  I  am  so  inex- 
perienced that  I  might  make  a  mistake  easily  as  to  the 
character  of  the  places.  Will  you  direct  me  to  some 
street  or  quarter  in  which  I  should  be  likely  to  find 
suitable  rooms?  I  can  live  very  economically." 

"  I  dont  know  what  to  do,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford,  per- 
plexedly, turning  her  rings  on  her  fingers.  "  You  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  And  you  so  pretty !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  would  rather  not  assist  me.  You  may 
tell  me  so  candidly.  I  shall  not  be  offended." 

"  You  mustnt  take  me  up  like  that.  I  must  have  a 
talk  with  the  General  about  you.  I  dont  feel  like  letting 
you  go  into  some  ordinary  place  by  yourself.  But  I 
cant  ask  you  to  stay  here  without  consulting " 

"  Oh,  no,  you  must  not  think  of  any  such  thing :  I  must 
begin  to  face  the  world  alone  at  once.  I  assure  you, 
Mrs.  Crawford,  I  could  not  come  here.  I  should  only 
keep  your  friends  away." 

"  But  nobody  knows  you." 

"  Sooner  or  later  I  should  meet  someone  who  does. 
There  are  hundreds  of  people  who  know  me  by  sight, 
who  travel  every  year.  Besides,  my  case  is  a  very  pub- 
lic one,  unfortunately.  May  I  take  you  into  my  confi- 
dence?" 

369 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"If  you  wish,  my  dear.  I  dont  ask  you  for  it ;  but 
I  will  take  it  kindly." 

"  I  know  you  will.  You  must  have  heard  all  about 
me.  Mr.  Forster's  real  name  is  Douglas." 

Mrs.  Crawford  stifled  a  whoop  of  surprise.  "  And 
you !  Are  you ?  " 

"  I  am." 

"Only  think!  And  that  was  Douglas!  Why,  I 
thought  he  was  a  straight-haired,  sleeky,  canting  snake 
of  a  man.  And  you  too  are  not  a  bit  like  what  I  thought. 
You  are  quite  a  person,  Mrs. — Mrs.  Conolly." 

"  I  have  no  right  to  bear  that  name  any  longer.  Pray 
call  me  by  my  assumed  name  still,  and  keep  my  secret. 
I  hope  you  do  not  believe  all  the  newspapers  said  ?  " 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford.  "  But 
whose  fault  was  it  ?  " 

"  Mine.  Altogether  mine.  I  wish  you  would  tell 
people  that  Mr.  Conolly  is  blameless  in  the  matter." 

"  He  will  take  care  of  his  own  credit,  never  fear.  I 
am  sure  you  got  some  provocation:  I  know  what  men 
are.  The  General  is  not  my  first  husband." 

"  No,  I  got  no  provocation.  Mr.  Conolly  is  not  like 
other  men.  I  got  discontented  because  I  had  nothing 
to  desire.  And  now,  about  the  lodgings,  Mrs.  Crawford. 
Do  not  think  I  am  changing  the  subject  from  reticence. 
It  is  the  question  of  money  that  makes  me  anxious.  All 
my  resources  would  be  swallowed  up  at  the  hotel  in  less 
than  a  week." 

"  Lodgings  ?  You  mean  rooms,  I  guess.  People  here 
mostly  go  to  boarding-houses.  And  as  to  the  cheapness, 
you  dont  know  what  cheapness  is.  Cant  you  make  some 
arrangement  with  your  great  relations  in  England  ?  Have 
you  no  property  of  your  own  ?  " 

370 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  I  cannot  tell  whether  my  property  remains  my  own 
or  not.  You  must  regard  me  as  a  poor  woman.  I  am 
quite  determined  to  have  the  lodgings ;  and  I  should  like 
to  arrange  about  them  at  once ;  for  I  am  rather  upset  by 
something  that  happened  this  morning." 

"  Well,  if  you  must,  you  must.  I  know  a  place  that 
might  suit  you:  I  lived  in  it  myself  when  I  was  not  so 
well  off  as  I  am  at  present.  It  is  a  little  down-town; 
but  you  will  have  to  put  up  with  that  for  the  sake  of 
economy." 

Mrs.  Crawford,  who  had  read  in  the  papers  of  her 
guest's  relationship  to  the  Earl  of  Carbury,  then  sent  for 
her  carriage,  and  dressed  herself  handsomely.  When 
they  had  gone  some  distance,  they  entered  a  wide  street, 
crossed  half  way  along  by  an  avenue  and  an  elevated 
railway. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  this  neighborhood  ? "  said 
Mrs.  Crawford. 

"  It  is  a  fine,  wide  street,"  replied  Marian ;  "  but  it 
looks  as  if  it  needed  to  be  swept  and  painted." 

"  The  other  end  is  quieter.  I'm  afraid  you  wont  like 
living  here." 

Marian  had  hitherto  thought  of  such  streets  as  thor- 
oughfares, not  as  places  in  which  she  could  dwell.  "  Beg- 
gars cannot  be  choosers,"  she  said,  with  affected  cheer- 
fulness, looking  anxiously  ahead  for  the  promised  quiet 
part. 

"  Boarding-houses  are  so  much  the  rule  here,  that  it 
is  not  easy  to  get  rooms.  You  will  find  Mrs.  Myers  a 
good  soul,  and  though  the  house  is  not  much  to  look  at, 
it  is  comfortable  enough  inside." 

The  appearance  of  the  street  improved  as  they  went 
on;  and  the  house  they  stopped  at,  though  the  windows 

371 


The   Irrational   Knot 

were  dingy  and  the  paint  old,  was  better  than  Marian 
had  hoped  for  a  minute  before.  She  remained  in  the 
carriage  whilst  her  companion  conferred  with  the  land- 
lady within.  Twenty  minutes  passed  before  Mrs.  Craw- 
ford reappeared,  looking  much  perplexed. 

"  Mrs.  Myers  has  a  couple  of  rooms  that  would  do  you 
very  well;  only  you  would  be  on  the  same  floor  with  a 
woman  who  is  always  drunk.  She  has  pawned  a  heap 
of  clothes,  and  promises  to  leave  every  day;  but  Mrs. 
Myers  hasnt  got  rid  of  her  yet.  It's  very  provoking. 
She's  quiet,  and  doesnt  trouble  any  one;  but  still,  of 
course " 

"  She  cannot  interfere  with  me,"  said  Marian.  "  If 
that  is  the  only  objection,  let  it  pass.  I  need  have  noth- 
ing to  say  to  her.  If  she  is  not  violent  nor  noisy,  her 
habits  are  her  own  affair." 

"  Oh,  she  wont  trouble  you.  You  can  keep  to  your- 
self, English  fashion." 

"  Then  let  us  agree  at  once.  I  cannot  face  any  more 
searching  and  bargaining." 

"  Youre  looking  pale.     Are  you  sure  you  are  not  ill  ?  " 

"  No.     It  is  nothing.     I  am  rather  tired." 

They  went  in  together;  and  Marian  was  introduced 
to  Mrs.  Myers,  a  nervous  widow  of  fifty.  The  rooms 
were  small,  and  the  furniture  and  carpets  old  and  worn; 
but  all  was  clean;  and  there  was  an  open  fireplace  in 
the  sitting-room. 

"  They  will  do  very  nicely,  thank  you,"  said  Marian. 
"I  will  send  for  my  luggage;  and  I  think  I  will  just 
telegraph  my  new  address  and  a  few  words  to  a  friend 
in  London." 

"  If  you  feel  played  out,  I  can  see  after  your  luggage," 
said  Mrs.  Crawford.  "  But  I  advise  you  to  come  back 

372 


The   Irrational   Knot 

with  me;  have  a  good  lunch  at  Delmonico's ;  and  send 
your  cablegram  yourself." 

Marian  roused  herself  from  a  lassitude  which  was 
coming  upon  her,  and  took  Mrs.  Crawford's  advice. 
When  they  returned  to  the  richer  quarter  of  the  town, 
and  especially  after  luncheon,  her  spirits  revived.  At 
the  hotel  she  observed  that  the  clerk  was  surprised  when, 
arranging  for  the  removal  of  her  luggage  and  the  for- 
warding of  her  letters,  she  mentioned  her  new  address. 
Douglas,  she  found,  had  paid  all  expenses  before  leaving. 
She  did  not  linger  in  the  building;  for  the  hotel  staff 
stared  at  her  curiously.  She  finished  her  business  by 
telegraphing  to  Elinor :  "  Separated.  Write  to  new 
address.  Have  I  forfeited  my  money f"  This  cost  her 
nearly  five  dollars. 

"  Only  that  you  must  find  out  about  your  money,  I 
wouldnt  have  let  you  spend  all  that,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford. 

"  I  did  not  think  it  would  have  cost  so  much,"  said 
Marian.  "  I  was  horrified  when  he  named  the  price. 
However,  it  cannot  be  helped." 

"  We  may  as  well  be  getting  back  to  Mrs.  Myers's 
now.  It's  late." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  said  Marian,  sighing.  "  I  am 
sorry  I  did  not  ask  'Nelly  to  telegraph  me.  I  am  afraid 
my  funds  will  not  last  so  long  as  I  thought." 

"  Well,  we  shall  see.  The  General  was  greatly  taken 
with  you  for  the  way  you  looked  after  me  when  I  was 
ill  yonder;  so  you  have  two  friends  in  Noo  York  City, 
at  any  rate." 

"  You  have  proved  that  to  me  to-day.  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  have  to  trouble  you  further  if  I  get  bad  news. 
You  will  have  to  help  me  to  find  some  work." 

"  Yes.     Never  mind  that  until  the  bad  news  comes. 

373 


The   Irrational   Knot 

I  hope  you  wont  mope  at  Mrs.  Myers's.  How  does  the 
American  air  agree  with  you  ?  " 

"  Pretty  well.  I  was  sick  for  the  first  two  days  of 
our  passage  across,  and  somehow  my  digestion  seems 
to  have  got  out  of  order  in  consequence.  Of  late  I  have 
been  a  little  unwell  in  the  mornings." 

"  Oh !  Thats  so,  is  it  ?  Humph !  I  see  I  shall  have 
to  come  and  look  after  you  occasionally." 

"Why?" 

"  Never  you  mind,  my  dear.  But  dont  go  moping,  nor 
going  without  food  to  save  money.  Take  care  of  your- 
self." 

"  It  is  nothing  serious,"  said  Marian,  with  a  smile. 
"  Only  a  passing  indisposition.  You  need  not  be  uneasy 
about  me.  This  is  the  house,  is  it  not?  I  shall  lose 
myself  whenever  I  go  out  for.  a  walk  here." 

"  This  is  it.  Now  good-bye.  I'll  see  you  soon.  Mean- 
while, you  take  care  of  yourself,  as  youre  told." 

It  was  dark  when  Marian  entered  her  new  residence. 
Mrs.  Myers  was  standing  at  the  open  door,  remonstrat- 
ing with  a  milkman.  Marian  hastily  assured  her  that 
she  knew  the  way,  and  went  upstairs  alone.  She  was 
chilled  and  weary;  her  spirits  had  fallen  again  during 
her  journey  from  the  telegraph  office.  As  she  ap- 
proached her  room,  hoping  to  find  a  good  fire,  she 
heard  a  flapping  noise,  which  was  suddenly  interrupted 
by  the  rattle  of  a  falling  poker,  followed  by  the  excla- 
mation, in  a  woman's  voice,  "  Och,  musha,  I  wouldnt 
doubt  you."  Marian,  entering,  saw  a  robust  young 
woman  kneeling  before  the  grate,  trying  to  improve  a 
dull  fire  that  burnt  there.  She  had  taken  up  the  poker 
and  placed  it  standing  against  the  bars  so  that  it 
pointed  up  the  chimney;  and  she  was  now  using  her 

374 


The   Irrational   Knot 

apron  fanwise  as  a  bellows.  The  fire  glowed  in  the 
draught ;  and  Marian,  by  its  light,  noted  with  displeasure 
that  the  young  woman's  calico  dress  was  soiled,  and  her 
hair  untidy. 

"  I  think " 

"  God  bless  us !  "  ejaculated  the  servant,  starting  and 
turning  a  comely  dirty  face  toward  Marian. 

"  Did  I  frighten  you  ?  "  said  Marian,  herself  startled 
by  the  exclamation. 

"  You  put  the  life  acrass  in  me,"  said  the  servant, 
panting,  and  pressing  her  hand  on  her  bosom. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that.  I  was  going  to  say  that  I 
think  you  need  not  take  any  further  trouble  with  the 
fire.  It  will  light  of  itself  now." 

"  Very  well,  miss." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  Liza  Redmon',  miss." 

"  I  should  like  some  light,  Eliza,  if  you  please." 

"  Yis,  miss.  Would  you  wish  to  take  your  tay  now, 
miss  ?  " 

"Yes,  thank  you." 

Eliza  went  away  with  alacrity.  Marian  put  off  her 
bonnet  and  furs,  and  sat  down  before  the  fire  to  despond 
over  the  prospect  of  living  in  that  shabby  room,  waited 
on  by  that  slipshod  Irish  girl,  who  roused  in  her  some- 
thing very  like  racial  antipathy.  Presently  Eliza  re- 
turned, carrying  a  small  tray,  upon  which  she  had 
crowded  a  lighted  kerosene  lamp,  a  china  tea  service,  a 
rolled-up  table  cloth,  a  supply  of  bread  and  butter,  and 
a  copper  kettle.  When  she  had  placed  the  lamp  on  the 
mantelpiece,  and  the  kettle  by  the  fire,  she  put  the  tray 
on  the  sofa,  and  proceeded  to  lay  the  cloth,  which  she 
shook  from  its  folds  and  spread  like  a  sail  in  the  air  by 

375 


The   Irrational   Knot 

seizing  two  of  the  corners  in  her  hands,  and  pulling 
them  apart  whilst  she  held  the  middle  fold  in  her  teeth. 
Then  she  adroitly  wafted  it  over  the  table,  making  a 
breeze  in  which  the  lamp  flared  and  Marian  blinked. 
Her  movements  were  very  rapid ;  and  in  a  few  moments 
she  had  arranged  the  tea  service,  and  was  ready  to 
withdraw. 

"  My  luggage  will  be  sent  here  this  evening  or  to- 
morrow, Eliza.  Will  you  tell  me  when  it  comes  ?  " 

"  Yis,  miss." 

"  You  know  that  my  name  is  Mrs.  Forster,  do  you 
not?" 

"  Mrs.  Forster.     Yis,  miss." 

Marian  made  no  further  attempt  to  get  miss  changed 
to  maam;  and  Eliza  left  the  room.  As  she  crossed 
the  landing,  she  was  called  by  someone  on  the  same 
floor.  Marian  started  at  the  sound.  It  was  a  woman's 
voice,  disagreeably  husky :  a  voice  she  felt  sure  she  had 
heard  before,  and  yet  one  that  was  not  familiar  to  her. 

"  Eliza.    Eli-za !  "    Marian  shuddered. 

"  Yis,  yis,"  said  Eliza,  impatiently,  opening  a  door. 

"  Come  here,  alanna,"  said  the  voice,  with  mock 
fondness.  The  door  was  then  closed,  and  Marian  could 
hear  the  murmur  of  the  conversation  which  followed. 
It  was  still  proceeding  when  Mrs.  Myers  came  in. 

"  I  didnt  ought  to  have  left  you  to  find  your  way  up 
here  alone,  Mrs.  Forster,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  do  have  such 
worry  sometimes  that  I'm  bound  to  leave  either  one  thing 
or  another  undone." 

"  It  does  not  matter  at  all,  Mrs.  Myers.  Your  servant 
has  been  very  attentive  to  me." 

"  The  hired  girl  ?  She's  smart,  she  is — does  every- 
thing right  slick  away.  The  only  trouble  is  to  keep  her 

376 


The   Irrational   Knot 

out  of  that  room.  She's  in  there  now.  Unless  I  am 
always  after  her,  she  is  slipping  out  on  errands,  pawning 
and  buying  drink  for  that  unfortunate  young  creature." 

"For  whom?" 

"A  person  that  Mrs.  Crawford  promised  to  tell  you 
about." 

"  So  she  did,"  said  Marian.  "  But  I  did  not  know  she 
was  young." 

"  She's  older  than  you,  a  deal.  I  knew  her  when  she 
was  a  little  girl,  and  I  often  forget  how  old  she  is.  She 
was  the  prettiest  child!  Even  now  she  would  talk  you 
into  anything.  But  I  cant  help  her.  It's  nothing  but 
drink,  drink,  drink  from  morning  til  night.  There's 
Eliza  coming  out  of  her  room.  Eliza." 

"  Yis,  maam,"  said  Eliza,  looking  in. 

"  You  stay  in  the  house,  Eliza,  do  you  hear  ?  I  wont 
have  you  go  out." 

"  Could  I  spake  a  word  to  you,  maam  ?  "  said  Eliza, 
lowering  her  voice. 

"  No,  Eliza.     I'm  engaged  with  Mrs.  Forster." 

"  She  wants  to  see  you,"  whispered  Eliza. 

"  Go  down-stairs,  Eliza,  this  minute.     I  wont  see  her." 

"  Mrs.  Myers,"  cried  the  voice.  Marian  again  shrank 
from  the  sound.  "  Mrs.  My-ers.  Aunt  Sally.  Come  to 
your  poor  Soozy."  Mrs.  Myers  looked  perplexedly  at 
Marian.  The  voice  resumed  after  a  pause,  with  an 
affected  Yankee  accent,  "  I  guess  I'll  raise  a  shine  if  you 
dont  come." 

"  I  must  go,"  said  Mrs.  Myers.  "  I  promise  you,  Mrs. 
Forster,  she  shall  not  annoy  you.  She  shall  go  this 
week.  It  aint  right  that  you  should  be  disturbed  by  her." 

Mrs.  Myers  went  into  the  other  room.  Eliza  ran 
down-stairs,  and  Marian  heard  her  open  the  house  door 

377 


The   Irrational   Knot 

softly  and  go  out.  She  also  heard  indistinctly  the  voices 
of  the  landlady  and  her  lodger.  After  a  time  these 
ceased,  and  she  drank  her  tea  in  peace.  She  was  glad 
that  Mrs.  Myers  did  not  return,  although  she  made  no 
more  comfortable  use  of  her  solitude  than  to  think  of 
her  lost  home  in  Holland  Park,  comparing  it  with  her 
dingy  apartment,  and  pressing  her  handkerchief  upon 
her  eyes  when  they  became  too  full  of  tears.  She  had 
passed  more  than  an  hour  thus  when  Eliza  roused  her 
by  announcing  the  arrival  of  the  luggage.  Thereupon 
she  bestirred  herself  to  superintend  its  removal  to  her 
bedroom,  where  she  unpacked  a  trunk  which  contained 
her  writing-case  and  some  books.  With  these  were 
stowed  her  dresses,  much  miscellaneous  finery,  and  some 
handsomely  worked  underclothing.  Eliza,  standing  by, 
could  not  contain  her  admiration;  and  Marian,  though 
she  did  not  permit  her  to  handle  the  clothes,  had  not  the 
heart  to  send  her  away  until  she  had  seen  all  that  the 
trunk  contained.  Marian  heard  her  voice  afterward  in 
the  apartment  of  the  drunken  lodger,  and  suspected  from 
its  emphasis  that  the  girl  was  describing  the  rare  things 
she  had  seen. 

Marian  imparted  some  interest  to  her  surroundings 
that  evening  by  describing  them  in  a  letter  to  Elinor. 
When  she  had  finished,  she  was  weary;  and  the  fire  was 
nearly  out.  She  looked  at  her  watch,  and,  finding  to  her 
surprise  that  is  was  two  hours  after  midnight,  rose  to 
go  to  bed.  Before  leaving  the  room,  she  stood  for  a 
minute  before  the  old-fashioned  pier-glass,  with  one  foot 
on  the  fender,  and  looked  at  her  image,  pitying  her  own 
weariness,  and  enjoying  the  soft  beauty  of  her  face  and 
the  gentleness  of  her  expression.  Her  appearance  did 
not  always  please  her;  but  on  this  occasion  the  mirror 

378 


The  Irrational   Knot 

added  so  much  to  the  solace  she  had  found  in  writing 
to  Elinor,  that  she  felt  almost  happy  as  she  took  the 
lamp  to  light  her  to  her  bedroom. 

She  had  gone  no  farther  than  the  landing  when  a 
sound  of  unsteady  footsteps  on  the  stairs  caused  her  to 
stop.  As  she  lifted  the  lamp  and  looked  up,  she  saw  a 
strange  woman  descending  toward  her,  holding  the  bal- 
ustrade, and  moving  as  though  with  pains  in  her  limbs. 
This  woman,  whose  black  hair  fell  nearly  to  her  waist, 
was  dressed  in  a  crimson  satin  dressing-gown,  warmly 
padded,  and  much  stained  and  splashed.  She  had  fine 
dark  eyes,  and  was  young,  bold-looking,  and  handsome; 
but  when  she  came  nearer,  the  moist  pallor  of  her  skin, 
the  slackness  of  her  lower  lip  and  jaw,  and  an  eager  and 
worn  expression  in  her  fine  eyes,  gave  her  a  thirsty, 
reckless  leer  that  filled  Marian  with  loathing.  Her  as- 
pect conveyed  the  same  painful  suggestion  as  her  voice 
had  done  before,  but  more  definitely;  for  it  struck  Ma- 
rian, with  a  shock,  that  Conolly,  in  the  grotesque  meta- 
morphosis of  a  nightmare,  might  appear  in  some  such 
likeness.  The  lamp  did  not  seem  to  attract  her  attention 
at  first;  but  when  she  came  within  a  few  steps,  she  saw 
some  one  before  her,  and,  dazzled  by  the  light,  peered  at 
Marian,  who  lost  her  presence  of  mind,  and  stood  motion- 
less. Gradually  the  woman's  expression  changed  to  one 
of  astonishment.  She  came  down  to  the  landing;  stop- 
ped, grasping  the  handrail  to  steady  herself;  and  said  in 
her  husky  voice: 

"  Oh,  Lord !  It's  not  a  woman  at  all.  It's  D.  Ts." 
Then,  not  quite  convinced  by  this  explanation,  she  sud- 
denly stretched  out  her  hand  and  attempted  to  grasp 
Marian's  arm.  Missing  her  aim,  she  touched  her  on 
the  breast,  and  immediately  cried,  "  Mrs.  Ned !  " 

379 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Marian  shrank  from  her  touch,  and  recovered  her 
courage. 

"  Do  you  know  me  ?  "  she  said. 

"  I  should  rather  think  I  do.  I  have  gone  off  a  good 
deal  in  my  appearance,  or  you  would  know  me.  Youve 
seen  me  on  the  stage,  I  suppose.  I'm  your  sister-in-law. 
Perhaps  you  didnt  know  you  had  one." 

"Are  you  Miss  Susanna  Conolly  ?  " 

"  Thats  who  I  am.  At  least  I  am  what  is  left  of 
Miss  Susanna.  You  dont  look  overjoyed  to  make  my 
acquaintance;  but  I  was  as  good-looking  as  you  once. 
Take  my  advice,  Mrs.  Ned:  dont  drink  champagne. 
The  end  of  champagne  is  brandy ;  and  the  end  of  brandy 
is "  Susanna  made  a  grimace  and  indicated  herself. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  disturb  the  house  if  we  talk 
here.  We  had  better  say  good-night." 

"  No,  no.  Dont  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  rid  of  me. 
Come  into  my  room  with  me  for  a  while.  I'll  talk 
quietly:  I'm  not  drunk.  Ive  just  slept  it  off;  and  I  was 
coming  down  for  some  more.  You  may  as  well  keep 
me  from  it  for  a  few  minutes.  I  suppose  Ned  hasnt 
forbidden  you  to  speak  to  me." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Marian,  yielding  to  a  feeling  of  pity. 
"  Come  into  my  room.  There  is  a  scrap  of  fire  there 
still." 

"  We  used  to  lodge  in  this  room  long  ago,  in  my 
father's  time,"  said  Susanna,  following  Marian  into  the 
room,  and  reclining  with  a  groan  on  the  sofa.  "  I'm 
rather  in  a  fog,  you  know:  I  cant  make  out  how  the 
deuce  you  come  to  be  here.  Did  Ned  send  you  to  look 
after  me?  Is  he  in  New  York?  Is  he  here?" 

"  No,"  said  Marian,  foreseeing  with  a  bitter  pang  and 

380 


The   Irrational   Knot 

a  terrible  blush  what  must  follow.  "  He  is  in  England. 
I  am  alone  here." 

"Well,  why—?  what—?  I  dont  understand." 

"  Have  you  not  read  the  papers  ? "  said  Marian,  in  a 
low  voice,  turning  her  head  away. 

"  Papers !  No,  not  since  I  saw  an  account  of  my 
brilliant  debut  here,  of  which  I  suppose  you  have  heard. 
I  never  read:  I  do  nothing  but  drink.  What  has  hap- 
pened ?  " 

Marian  hesitated. 

"  Is  it  any  secret?  "  said  Susanna. 

"  No,  it  is  no  secret,"  said  Marian,  turning,  and  look- 
ing at  her  steadily.  "  All  the  world  knows  it.  I  have 
left  your  brother;  and  I  do  not  know  whether  I  am  still 
his  wife,  or  whether  I  am  already  divorced." 

"  You  dont  mean  to  say  youre  on  the  loose !  "  cried 
Susanna. 

Marian  was  silent. 

"  I  always  told  Ned  that  no  woman  could  stand  him," 
said  Susanna,  with  sodden  vivacity,  after  a  pause,  dur- 
ing which  Marian  had  to  endure  her  astonished  stare. 
"  He  always  thought  you  the  very  pink  of  propriety. 
Of  course,  there  was  another  man  in  it.  Whats  become 
of  him,  if  I  may  ask  ?  " 

"  I  have  left  him,"  said  Marian,  sternly.  "  You  need 
impute  no  fault  to  your  brother  in  the  matter,  Miss  Con- 
olly.  He  is  quite  blameless." 

"  Yes,"  said  Susanna,  not  in  the  least  impressed,  "  he 
always  is  blameless.  How  is  Bob  ?  I  mean  Marmaduke, 
your  cousin.  I  call  him  Bob,  short  for  Cherry  Bob." 

"  He  is  very  well,  thank  you." 

"  Now,  Bob  was  not  a  blameless  man,  but  altogether 
the  reverse;  and  he  was  a  capital  fellow  to  get  on  with. 


The    Irrational    Knot 

Ned  was  always  right,  always  sure  of  himself ;  and  there 
was  an  end.  He  has  no  variety.  I  wonder  will  Bob 
ever  get  married  ?  " 

"  He  is  going  to  be  married  in  the  spring." 

"Who  to?" 

"  To  Lady  Constance  Car " 

"  Damn  that  woman !  "  exclaimed  Susanna.  "  I  hate 
her.  She  was  always  throwing  herself  at  his  head. 
Curse  her!  Damn  her!  I  wish " 

"  Miss  Conolly,"  said  Marian:  "  I  hope  you  will  not 
think  me  rude;  but  I  am  very  tired,  and  it  is  very  late. 
I  must  go  to  bed." 

"  Well,  will  you  come  and  see  me  to-morrow  ?  It  will 
be  an  act  of  charity.  I  am  dying  here  all  alone.  You 
are  a  nice  woman,  and  I  know  what  you  must  feel  about 
me;  but  you  will  get  used  to  me.  I  wont  annoy  you. 
I  wont  swear.  I  wont  say  anything  about  your  cousin. 
I'll  keep  sober.  Do  come.  You  are  a  good  sort:  Bob 
always  said  so;  and  you  might  save  me  from  destroying 
myself.  Say  youll  come." 

"  If  you  particularly  wish  it,  I  will,"  said  Marian,  not 
disguising  her  reluctance. 

"Youd  rather  not,  of  course,"  said  Susanna,  despon- 
dently. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  be  of  any  use  to  you." 

"  For  that  matter,  no  one  is  likely  to  be  of  much  use 
to  me.  But  it's  hard  to  be  imprisoned  in  this  den  with- 
out anyone  to  speak  to  but  Eliza.  However,  do  as  you 
please.  I  did  as  I  pleased;  and  I  must  take  the  conse- 
quences. Just  tell  me  one  thing.  Did  you  find  me  out 
by  accident  ?  " 

"  Quite." 

"  That  was  odd."    Susanna  groaned  again  as  she  rose 

382 


The   Irrational   Knot 

from  the  sofa.  "  Well,  since  you  wont  have  anything  to 
do  with  me,  good-bye.  Youre  quite  right." 

"  I  will  come  and  see  you.  I  do  not  wish  to  avoid 
you  if  you  are  in  trouble." 

"Do,"  said  Susanna,  eagerly,  touching  Marian's  hand 
with  her  moist  palm.  "  We'll  get  on  better  than  you 
think.  I  like  you,  and  I'll  make  you  like  me.  If  I  could 
only  keep  from  it  for  two  days,  I  shouldnt  be  a  bit  dis- 
gusting. Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Marian,  overcoming  her  repug- 
nance to  Susanna's  hand,  and  clasping  it.  "  Remember 
that  my  name  here  is  Mrs.  Forster." 

"All  right.  Good-night.  Thank  you.  You  will  never 
be  sorry  for  having  compassion  on  me." 

"  Wont  you  take  a  light?  " 

"  I  dont  require  one.  I  can  find  what  I  want  in  the 
dark." 

She  went  into  her  apartment.  Marian  went  quickly 
up  to  her  own  bedroom  and  locked  herself  in.  Her  first 
loathing  for  Susanna  had  partly  given  way  to  pity;  but 
the  humiliation  of  confessing  herself  to  such  a  woman 
as  an  unfaithful  wife  was  galling.  When  she  went  to 
sleep  she  dreamed  that  she  was  unmarried  and  at  home 
with  her  father,  and  that  the  household  was  troubled  by 
Susanna,  who  lodged  in  a  room  up-stairs. 


383 


CHAPTER   XX 

SHOLTO  DOUGLAS  returned  to  England  in  the 
ship  which  carried  Marian's  letter  to  Elinor.  On 
reaching  London  he  stayed  a  night  in  the  hotel 
at  Euston,  and  sent  his  man  next  day  to  take  rooms  for 
him  at  the  West  End.  Early  in  the  afternoon  the  man 
reported  that  he  had  secured  apartments  in  Charles 
Street,  St.  James's.  It  was  a  fine  wintry  day,  and  Doug- 
las resolved  to  walk,  not  without  a  sense  of  being  about 
to  run  the  gauntlet. 

It  proved  the  most  adventurous  walk  he  had  ever 
taken  in  his  life.  Everybody  he  knew  seemed  to  be 
lying  in  wait  for  him.  In  Portland  Place  he  met  Miss 
McQuinch,  who,  with  the  letter  fresh  in  her  pocket, 
looked  at  him  indignantly,  and  cut  him.  At  the  Lang- 
ham  Hotel  he  passed  a  member  of  his  club,  who  seemed 
surprised,  but  nodded  coolly.  In  Regent  Street  he  saw 
Lady  Carbury's  carriage  waiting  before  a  shop.  He 
hurried  past  the  door,  for  he  had  lost  courage  at  his 
encounter  with  Elinor.  There  were,  however,  two  doors ; 
and  as  he  passed  the  second,  the  Countess,  Lady  Con- 
stance, and  Marmaduke  came  out  just  before  him. 

"  Where  the  devil  is  the  carriage  ?  "  said  Marmaduke, 
loudly. 

"  Hush !  Everybody  can  hear  you,"  said  Lady  Con- 
stance. 

"  What  do  I  care  whether —  Hal-lo !  Douglas !  Haw 
are  you  ?  " 

384 


The    Irrational    Knot 

Marmaduke  proffered  his  hand.  Lady  Carbury  pluck- 
ed her  daughter  by  the  sleeve  and  hurried  to  her  carriage, 
after  returning  Douglas's  stern  look  with  the  slightest 
possible  bow.  Constance  imitated  her  mother.  Doug- 
las haughtily  raised  his  hat. 

"  How  obstinate  Marmaduke  is ! "  said  the  Countess, 
when  she  had  bidden  the  coachman  drive  away  at  once. 
"  He  is  going  to  walk  down  Regent  Street  with  that 
man." 

"  But  you  didnt  cut  him,  mamma." 

"  I  never  dreamed  of  his  coming  back  so  soon ;  and, 
of  course,  I  cannot  tell  whether  he  will  be  cut  or  not. 
We  must  wait  and  see  what  other  people  will  do.  If  we 
meet  him  again  we  had  better  not  see  him." 

"  Look  here,  old  fellow,"  said  Marmaduke,  as  he  walk- 
ed away  with  Douglas.  "  Youve  come  back  too  soon. 
It  wont  do.  Take  my  advice  and  go  away  again  until 
matters  have  blown  over.  Hang  it,  it's  too  flagrant! 
You  have  not  been  away  two  months." 

"  I  believe  you  are  going  to  be  married,"  said  Doug- 
las. "Allow  me  to  congratulate  you." 

"  Thank  you.     Fine  day,  isnt  it?  " 

"  Very  fine." 

Marmaduke  walked  on  in  silence.  Douglas  presently 
recommenced  the  conversation. 

"  I  only  arrived  in  London  last  night.  I  have  come 
from  New  York." 

"  Indeed.     Pleasant  voyage  ?  " 

"  Very  pleasant." 

Another  pause. 

"  Has  anything  special  happened  during  my  absence  ?  " 

"  Nothing  special." 

"Was  there  much  fuss  made  about  my  going?" 

385 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  Well,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  fuss  made  about  it 
Excuse  my  alluding  to  the  subject  again.  I  shouldnt 
have  done  so  if  you  hadnt  asked  me." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  fellow,  you  neednt  stand  on  ceremony 
with  me." 

"  That's  all  very  well,  Douglas ;  but  when  I  alluded 
to  it  just  now,  you  as  good  as  told  me  to  mind  my  own 
business." 

"I  told  you  so!" 

"  Not  in  those  words,  perhaps.  However,  the  matter 
is  easily  settled.  You  bolted  with  Marian.  I  know  that, 
and  you  know  it.  If  the  topic  is  disagreeable,  say  so, 
and  it  is  easily  avoided.  If  you  want  to  talk  about  it, 
better  not  change  the  subject  when  I  mention  it." 

"  You  have  taken  offence  needlessly.  I  changed  the 
subject  inadvertently." 

"  Hm !    Well,  has  she  come  back  with  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  youve  thrown  her  over  ?  " 

"  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  kind.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
she  has  thrown  me  over." 

"  Thats  very  strange.  You  are  not  going  to  marry 
her  then,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  ?  I  tell  you  she  has  deserted  me.  Let 
me  remind  you,  Lind,  that  I  should  not  be  bound  to 
marry  her  in  any  case,  and  I  shall  certainly  not  do  so 
now.  If  I  chose  to  justify  myself,  I  could  easily  do  so 
by  her  own  conduct." 

"  I  expect  you  will  not  be  troubled  for  any  justification. 
People  seem  to  have  made  up  their  minds  that  you  were 
wrong  in  the  first  instance,  and  you  ought  to  keep  out 
of  the  way  until  they  have  forgotten Oh,  confound 

386 


The    Irrational    Knot 

it,  here's  Conolly!  Now,  for  God's  sake,  dont  let  us 
have  any  row." 

Douglas  whitened,  and  took  a  step  back  into  the  road- 
way before  he  recovered  himself;  for  Conolly  had  come 
upon  them  suddenly  as  they  turned  into  Charles  Street. 
A  group  of  gentlemen  stood  on  the  steps  of  the  club- 
house which  stands  at  that  corner. 

"  Bless  me !  "  said  Conolly,  with  perfect  good  humor. 
"  Douglas  back  again !  Why  on  earth  did  you  run  away 
with  my  wife  ?  and  what  have  you  done  with  her  ?  " 

The  party  on  the  steps  ceased  chatting  and  began  to 
stare. 

"  This  is  not  the  place  to  call  me  to  account,  sir," 
said  Douglas,  still  on  his  guard,  and  very  ill  at  ease. 
"  If  you  have  anything  to  say  to  me  which  cannot  be 
communicated  through  a  friend,  it  had  better  be  said 
in  private." 

"  I  shall  trouble  you  for  a  short  conversation,"  said 
Conolly.  "  How  do  you  do,  Lind  ?  Where  can  we  go  ? 
I  do  not  belong  to  any  club." 

"  My  apartments  are  at  hand,"  said  Douglas. 

"  I  suppose  I  had  better  leave  you,"  said  Marmaduke. 

"  Your  presence  will  not  embarrass  me  in  the  least," 
said  Conolly. 

"  I  have  not  sought  this  interview,"  said  Douglas.  "  I 
therefore  prefer  Mr.  Lind  to  witness  what  passes." 

Conolly  nodded  assent;  and  they  went  to  a  house  on 
the  doorstep  of  which  Douglas's  man  was  waiting,  and 
ascended  to  the  front  drawing-room. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Douglas,  without  inviting  his  guests 
to  sit  down.  Conolly  alone  took  off  his  hat.  Marma- 
duke went  aside,  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 

"  I  know  the  circumstances  that  have  led  to  your  re- 

387 


The    Irrational    Knot 

turn,"  said  Conolly;  "  so  we  need  not  go  into  that.  I 
want  you,  however,  to  assist  me  on  one  point.  Do  you 
know  what  Marian's  pecuniary  position  is  at  present?" 

"  I  decline  to  admit  that  it  concerns  me  in  any  way." 

"  Of  course  not.  But  it  concerns  me,  as  I  do  not  wish 
that  she  should  be  without  money  in  a  foreign  city.  She 
has  telegraphed  a  question  about  her  property  to  Miss 
McQuinch.  That  by  itself  is  nothing;  but  her  new  ad- 
dress, which  I  first  saw  on  a  letter  this  morning,  happens 
to  be  known  to  me  as  that  of  a  rather  shabby  lodging- 
house." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  it." 

"I  do :  it  means  that  she  is  poor.  I  can  guess  at 
the  sum  she  carried  with  her  to  America.  Now,  if  you 
will  be  good  enough  to  tell  me  whether  you  have  ever 
given  her  money;  if  so,  how  much;  and  what  her  ex- 
penditure has  been,  you  will  enable  me  to  estimate  her 
position  at  present." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  you  have  any  right  to  ask  such 
questions." 

"  I  do  not  assert  any  right  to  ask  them.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  have  explained  their  object.  I  shall  not  press 
them,  if  you  think  that  an  answer  will  in  any  way  com- 
promise you." 

"  I  have  no  fear  of  being  compromised.  None  what- 
ever." 

Conolly  nodded,  and  waited  for  an  answer. 

"  I  may  say  that  my  late  trip  has  cost  me  a  considerable 
sum.  I  paid  all  the  expenses;  and  Miss — Mrs.  Conolly 
did  not,  to  my  knowledge,  disburse  a  single  fraction. 
She  did  not  ask  me  to  give  her  money.  Had  she  done 
so,  I  should  have  complied  at  once." 

388 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Thank  you.  Thats  all  right :  she  will  be  able  to 
hold  out  until  she  hears  from  us.  Good-afternoon." 

"Allow  me  to  add,  sir,  before  you  go,"  said  Douglas, 
asserting  himself  desperately  against  Conolly's  absolutely 
sincere  disregard  of  him  and  preoccupation  with  Marian, 
"  that  Mrs.  Conolly  has  been  placed  in  her  present  posi- 
tion entirely  through  her  own  conduct.  I  repudiate  the 
insinuation  that  I  have  deserted  her  in  a  foreign  city; 
and  I  challenge  inquiry  on  the  point." 

"  Quite  so,  quite  so,"  assented  Conolly,  carelessly. 
"  Good-bye,  Lind."  And  he  took  his  hat  and  went  out. 

"  By  George !  "  said  Marmaduke,  admiringly,  "  he  did 
that  damned  well — damned  well.  Look  here,  old  man: 
take  my  advice  and  clear  out  for  another  year  or  so. 
You  cant  stay  here.  As  a  looker-on,  I  see  most  of  the 
game ;  and  thats  my  advice  to  you  as  a  friend." 

Douglas,  whose  face  had  reddened  and  reddened  with 
successive  rushes  of  blood  until  it  was  now  purple,  lost 
all  self-control  at  Marmaduke's  commiserating  tone.  "  I 
will  see  whether  I  cannot  put  him  in  the  wrong,"  he  burst 
out,  in  the  debased  voice  of  an  ignobly  angry  man.  "  Do 
you  think  I  will  let  him  tell  the  world  that  I  have  been 
thrown  over  and  fooled  ?  " 

"  Thats  your  own  story,  isnt  it  ?  At  least,  I  under- 
stood you  to  say  so  as  we  came  along." 

"  Let  him  say  so,  and  I'll  thrash  him  like  a  dog  in  the 
street.  I'll "-" 

"  Whats  the  use  of  thrashing  a  man  who  will  simply 
hand  you  over  to  the  police  ?  and  quite  right,  too !  What 
rot!" 

"  We  shall  see.    We  shall  see." 

"  Very  well.     Do  as  you  like.     You  may  twist  one 

389 


The    Irrational    Knot 

another's  heads  off  for  what  I  care.  He  has  had  the 
satisfaction  of  putting  you  into  a  rage,  at  all  events." 

"  I  am  not  in  a  rage." 

"  Very  well.     Have  it  your  own  way." 

"  Will  you  take  a  challenge  to  him  from  me  ?  " 

"  No.     I  am  not  a  born  fool." 

"  That  is  plain  speaking." 

Marmaduke  put  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and  whis- 
tled. "  I  think  I  will  take  myself  off,"  he  said,  presently. 

"As  you  please,"  replied  Douglas,  coldly. 

"  I  will  look  in  on  you  some  day  next  week,  when  you 
have  cooled  down  a  bit.  Good-bye." 

Douglas  said  nothing,  and  Marmaduke,  with  a  nod, 
went  out.  Some  minutes  later  the  servant  entered  and 
said  that  Mr.  Lind  was  below. 

"  What !     Back  again !  "  said  Douglas,  with  an  oath. 

"  No,  sir.     It's  old  Mr  Lind— Mr.  Reginald." 

"  Did  you  say  I  was  in  ?  " 

"  The  man  belonging  to  the  house  did,  sir." 

"  Confound  his  officiousness !  I  suppose  he  must 
come  up." 

Reginald  Lind  entered,  and  bowed.  Douglas  placed 
a  chair  for  him,  and  waited,  mute,  and  a  little  put  out. 
Mr.  Lind's  eyes  and  voice  shewed  that  he  also  was  not 
at  his  ease ;  but  his  manner  was  courtly  and  his  expres- 
sion grave,  as  Douglas  had,  in  his  boyhood,  been  ac- 
customed to  see  them. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Sholto,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  "  that  I  cannot 
for  the  present  meet  you  with  the  cordiality  which  for- 
merly existed  between  us.  However  unbearable  your 
disappointment  at  Marian's  marriage  may  have  been, 
you  should  not  have  taken  a  reprehensible  and  desperate 
means  of  remedying  it.  I  speak  to  you  now  as  an  old 

390 


The    Irrational    Knot 

friend — as  one  who  knew  you  when  the  disparity  in  out 
ages  was  more  marked  than  it  is  at  present." 

Douglas  bowed. 

"  I  have  just  heard  from  Mr.  Conolly — whom  I  met 
accidentally  in  Pall  Mall — that  you  have  returned  from 
America.  He  gave  me  no  further  account  of  you,  ex- 
cept that  he  had  met  you  and  spoken  to  you  here.  I 
hope  nothing  unpleasant  passed." 

"  The  meeting  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  I  shall  take 
steps  to  make  Mr.  Conolly  understand  that." 

"  Nothing  approaching  to  violence,  I  trust." 

"  No.  Mr.  Conolly's  discretion  averted  it.  I  am  not 
sure  that  a  second  interview  between  us  will  end  so 
quietly." 

"  The  interview  should  not  have  taken  place  at  all, 
Sholto.  I  need  not  point  out  to  you  that  prudence  and 
good  taste  forbid  any  repetition  of  it." 

"  I  did  not  seek  it,  Mr.  Lind.  He  forced  it  upon  me. 
I  promise  you  that  if  a  second  meeting  takes  place,  it 
will  be  forced  upon  him  by  me,  and  will  take  place  in 
another  country." 

"  That  is  a  young  man's  idea,  Sholto.  The  day  for 
such  crimes,  thank  Heaven,  is  past  and  gone.  Let  us 
say  no  more  of  it.  I  was  speaking  to  your  mother  on 
Sunday.  Have  you  seen  her  yet  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Sholto,  you  hit  us  all  very  hard  that  Monday  before 
Christmas.  I  know  what  I  felt  about  my  daughter.  But 
I  can  only  imagine  what  your  mother  must  have  felt 
about  her  son." 

"  I  am  not  insensible  to  that.  I  has  been  rather  my 
misfortune  than  my  fault  that  I  have  caused  you  to 
suffer.  If  it  will  gratify  you  to  know  that  I  have  suf- 

391 


The    Irrational    Knot 

fered  deeply  myself,  and  am  now,  indeed,  a  broken  man, 
I  can  assure  you  that  such  is  the  case." 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  us  all  that  matters  are  not  ab- 
solutely irremediable.  I  will  so  far  take  you  into  my 
confidence  as  to  tell  you  that  I  have  never  felt  any  satis- 
faction in  Marian's  union  with  Mr.  Conolly.  Though  he 
is  unquestionably  a  remarkable  man,  yet  there  was  a 
certain  degree  of  incongruity  in  the  match — you  will 
understand  me — which  placed  Marian  apart  from  her 
family  whilst  she  was  with  him.  I  have  never  entered 
my  daughter's  house  without  a  feeling  that  I  was  more 
or  less  a  stranger  there.  Had  she  married  you  in  the 
first  instance,  the  case  would  have  been  different :  I  wish 
she  had.  However,  that  is  past  regretting  now.  What 
I  wish  to  say  is  that  I  can  still  welcome  you  as  Marian's 
husband,  even  though  she  will  have  a  serious  error  to 
live  down;  and  I  shall  be  no  less  liberal  to  her  than  if 
her  previous  marriage  had  never  taken  place." 

Douglas  cleared  his  throat,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Well  ? "  said  Mr.  Lind  after  a  pause,  reddening. 

"  This  is  a  very  painful  matter,"  said  Douglas  at  last. 
"As  a  man  of  the  world,  Mr.  Lind,  you  must  be  aware 
that  I  am  not  bound  to  your  daughter  in  any  way." 

"  I  am  not  speaking  to  you  as  a  man  of  the  world. 
I  am  speaking  as  a  father,  and  as  a  gentleman." 

"  Doubtless  your  position  as  a  father  is  an  unfortunate 
one.  I  can  sympathize  with  your  feelings.  But  as  a 
gentleman " 

"  Think  of  what  you  are  going  to  say,  Sholto.  If  you 
speak  as  a  gentleman,  you  can  have  only  one  answer. 
If  you  have  any  other,  you  will  speak  as  a  scoundrel." 
The  last  sentence  came  irrepressibly  to  Mr.  Line's  lips; 

392 


The    Irrational    Knot 

but  the  moment  he  had  uttered  it,  he  felt  that  he  had 
been  too  precipitate. 

"Sir!" 

"  I  repeat,  as  a  scoundrel — if  you  deny  your  duty  in 
the  matter." 

"  I  decline  to  continue  this  conversation  with  you,  Mr. 
Lind.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  no  gentleman  is 
expected  or  even  permitted  by  society  to  take  as  his  wife 
a  woman  who  has  lived  with  him  as  his  mistress." 

"  No  man  who  betrays  a  lady  and  refuses  to  make  her 
all  the  reparation  in  his  power  can  claim  to  be  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  You  are  dreaming,  Mr.  Lind.  Your  daughter  was 
the  guardian  of  her  own  honor.  I  made  her  no  promises. 
It  is  absurd  to  speak  of  a  woman  of  her  age  and  expe- 
rience being  betrayed,  as  though  she  were  a  child." 

"  I  always  understood  that  you  prided  yourself  on 
acting  up  to  a  higher  standard  of  honorable  dealing 
than  other  men.  If  this  is  your  boasted " 

"  Mr.  Lind,"  said  Douglas,  interrupting  him  with  de- 
termination, "  no  more  of  this,  if  you  please.  Briefly,  I 
will  have  nothing  whatever  to  say  to  Mrs.  Conolly  in 
the  future.  If  her  reputation  were  as  unstained  as  your 
own,  I  would  still  refuse  to  know  her.  I  have  suffered 
from  her  the  utmost  refinements  of  caprice  and  treach- 
ery, and  the  coarsest  tirades  of  abuse.  She  left  me  of 
her  own  accord,  in  spite  of  my  entreaties  to  her  to  stay — 
entreaties  which  I  made  her  in  response  to  an  exhibition 
of  temper  which  would  have  justified  me  in  parting  from 
her  there  and  then.  It  is  true  that  I  have  moulded  my 
life  according  to  a  higher  standard  of  honor  than  ordi- 
nary men;  and  it  is  also  true  that  that  standard  is  never 
higher,  never  more  fastidiously  acted  up  to,  than  where 

393 


The    Irrational    Knot 

a  woman  is  concerned.  I  have  only  to  add  that  I  am  per- 
fectly satisfied  as  to  the  propriety  of  my  behavior  in 
Marian's  case,  and  that  I  absolutely  refuse  to  hear  an- 
other accusation  of  unworthiness  from  you,  much  as  I 
respect  you  and  your  sorrow." 

Mr.  Lind,  though  he  saw  that  he  must  change  his  tone, 
found  it  hard  to  subdue  his  temper;  for  though  not 
a  strong  man,  he  was  unaccustomed  to  be  thwarted. 
"  Sholto,"  he  said:  "  you  are  not  serious.  You  are  irri- 
tated by  some  lovers'  quarrel." 

"  I  am  justly  estranged  from  your  daughter,  and  I 
am  resolved  never  to  give  her  a  place  in  my  thoughts 
again.  I  have  madly  wasted  my  youth  on  her.  Let 
her  be  content  with  that  and  the  other  things  I  have 
sacrificed  for  her  sake." 

"  But  this  is  dreadful.  Think  of  the  life  she  must 
lead  if  you  do  not  marry  her.  She  will  be  an  outcast. 
She  will  not  even  have  a  name." 

"  She  would  not  be  advised.  She  made  her  choice 
in  defiance  of  an  explicit  warning  of  the  inevitable  re- 
sults, and  she  must  abide  by  it.  I  challenge  the  most 
searching  inquiry  into  my  conduct,  Mr.  Lind.  It  will 
be  found,  if  the  truth  be  told,  that  I  spared  her  no  luxury 
before  she  left  me;  and  that,  far  from  being  the  ag- 
gressor, it  is  I  who  have  the  right  to  complain  of  insult 
and  desertion." 

"  Still,  even  granting  that  her  unhappy  position  may 
have  rendered  her  a  little  sore  and  impatient  at  times, 
do  you  not  owe  her  some  forbearance  since  she  gave 
up  her  home  and  her  friends  for  you  ?  " 

"  Sacrifice  for  sacrifice,  mine  was  the  greater  of  the 
two.  Like  her,  I  have  lost  my  friends  and  my  position 
here — to  some  extent,  at  least.  Worse,  I  have  let  my 

394 


The    Irrational    Knot 

youth  slip  by  in  fruitless  pursuit  of  her.  For  the  home 
which  she  hated,  I  offered  her  one  ten  times  more  splen- 
did. I  gave  her  the  devotion  of  a  gentleman  to  replace 
the  indifference  of  a  blacksmith.  What  have  I  not  done 
for  her?  I  freed  her  from  her  bondage;  I  carried  her 
across  the  globe;  I  watched  her,  housed  her,  fed  her, 
clothed  her  as  a  princess.  I  loved  her  with  a  love  that 
taught  her  a  meaning  of  the  word  she  had  never  known 
before.  And  when  I  had  served  her  turn — when  I  had 
rescued  her  from  her  husband  and  placed  her  beyond  his 
reach — when  she  became  surfeited  with  a  wealth  of  chiv- 
alrous love  which  she  could  not  comprehend,  and  when 
a  new  world  opened  before  her  a  fresh  field  for  intrigue, 
I  was  assailed  with  slanderous  lies,  and  forsaken.  Do 
you  think,  Mr.  Lind,  that  in  addition  to  this,  I  will  en- 
dure the  reproaches  of  any  man — even  were  he  my  own 
father?" 

"  But  she  suffers  more,  being  a  woman.  The  world 
will  be  comparatively  lenient  toward  you.  If  you  and 
she  were  married  and  settled,  with  no  consciousness  of 
being  in  a  false  position,  and  no  wearing  fear  of  detec- 
tion, you  would  get  on  together  quite  differently." 
"  It  may  be  so.  but  I  shall  never  put  it  to  the  test." 
"  Listen  a  moment,  Sholto.  Just  consider  the  matter 
calmly  and  rationally.  I  am  a  rich  man — at  least,  I  can 
endow  Marian  better  than  you  perhaps  think.  I  see  that 
you  feel  aggrieved,  and  that  you  fear  being  forced  into 
a  marriage  which  you  have,  as  you  say — I  fully  admit 
it,  most  fully — a  perfect  right  to  decline.  But  I  am 
urging  you  to  make  Marian  your  legal  wife  solely  be- 
cause it  is  the  best  course  for  both  of  you.  That,  I 
assure  you,  is  the  feeling  of  society  in  the  matter. 
Everybody  speaks  to  me  of  your  becoming  my  son-in- 

395 


The    Irrational    Knot 

law.  The  Earl  says  no  other  course  is  possible.  I  will 
give  you  ten  thousand  pounds  down  on  her  wedding- 
day.  You  will  lose  nothing:  Conolly  will  not  claim 
damages.  He  has  contradicted  the  report  that  he  would. 
I  will  pay  the  costs  of  the  divorce  as  well.  Mind!  I  do 
not  mean  that  I  will  settle  the  money  on  her.  I  will 
give  it  to  her  unconditionally.  In  other  words,  it  will 
become  your  property  the  moment  you  become  her  hus- 
band." 

"I  understand,"  said  Douglas  contemptuously.  "How- 
ever, as  it  is  merely  a  question  of  making  your  daughter 
an  honest  woman  in  consideration  of  so  much  cash,  I 
have  no  doubt  you  will  find  plenty  of  poorer  men  who 
will  be  glad  to  close  with  you  for  half  the  money.  You 
are  much  in  the  city  now,  I  believe.  Allow  me  to  sug- 
gest that  you  will  find  a  dealer  there  more  easily  than  in 
St.  James's." 

Mr.  Lind  reddened  again.  "  I  do  not  think  you  see 
the  matter  in  the  proper  light,"  he  said.  "  You  are 
asked  to  repair  the  disgrace  you  have  brought  on  a 
lady  and  upon  her  family.  I  offer  you  a  guarantee  that 
you  will  not  lose  pecuniarily  by  doing  so.  Whatever 
other  loss  you  may  incur,  you  are  bound  to  bear  it  as 
the  penalty  of  your  own  act.  I  appeal  to  you,  sir,  as 
one  gentleman  appeals  to  another,  to  remove  the  dis- 
honor you  have  brought  upon  my  name." 

"  To  transfer  it  to  my  own,  you  mean.  Thank  you, 
Mr.  Lind.  The  public  is  more  accustomed  to  associate 
conjugal  levity  with  the  name  of  Lind  than  with  that 
of  Douglas." 

"  If  you  refuse  me  the  justice  you  owe  to  my 
daughter,  you  need  not  couple  that  refusal  with  an 
insult" 

396 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  I  have  already  explained  that  I  owe  your  daughter 
nothing.  You  come  here  and  offer  me  ten  thousand 
pounds  to  marry  her.  I  decline  the  bargain.  You  then 
take  your  stand  upon  the  injury  to  your  name.  I  merely 
remind  you  that  your  name  was  somewhat  tarnished  even 
before  Mrs.  Conolly  changed  it  for  the  less  distinguished 
one  which  she  has  really  dishonored." 

"  Douglas,"  said  Mr.  Lind,  trembling,  "  I  will  make 
you  repent  this.  I  will  have  satisfaction." 

"As  you 'remarked  when  I  declared  my  readiness  to 
give  satisfaction  in  the  proper  quarter,  the  practice  you 
allude  to  is  obsolete.  Fortunately  so,  I  think,  in  our 
case." 

"  You  are  a  coward,  sir."  Douglas  rang  the  bell.  "  I 
will  expose  you  in  every  club  in  London." 

"  Shew  this  gentleman  out,"  said  Douglas  to  his 
servant. 

"  You  have  received  that  order  because  I  told  your 
master  that  he  is  a  rascal,"  said  Mr.  Lind  to  the  man. 
"  I  shall  say  the  same  thing  to  every  man  I  meet  between 
this  house  and  the  committee-room  of  his  club." 

The  servant  looked  grave  as  Mr.  Lind  left  the  room. 
Soon  after,  Douglas,  whose  self-respect,  annihilated  by 
Conolly,  had  at  first  been  thoroughly  restored  by  Mr. 
Lind,  felt  upset  again  by  the  conclusion  of  the  interview. 
Finding  solitude  and  idleness  intolerable,  he  went  into  the 
streets,  though  he  no  longer  felt  any  desire  to  meet  his 
acquaintances,  and  twice  crossed  the  Haymarket  to  avoid 
them.  As  he  strolled  about,  thinking  of  all  that  had 
been  said  to  him  that  afternoon,  he  grew  morose.  Twice 
he  calculated  his  expenditure  on  the  American  trip,  and 
the  difference  that  an  increment  of  ten  thousand  pounds 
would  make  in  bis  property.  Suddenly,  in  turning  out 

397 


The    Irrational    Knot 

of  Air  Street  into  Piccadilly,  he  found  himself  face  to 
face  with  Lord  Carbury. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  said  the  latter  pleasantly,  but 
without  the  unceremonious  fellowship  that  had  formerly 
existed  between  them. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Douglas,  "  I  am  quite  well." 

A  pause  followed,  Jasper  not  knowing  exactly  what 
to  say  next. 

"  I  am  considering  where  I  shall  dine,"  said  Douglas. 
"  Have  you  dined  yet  ?  " 

"  No.  I  promised  to  dine  at  home  this  evening.  My 
mother  likes  to  have  a  family  dinner  occasionally." 

Douglas  knew  that  before  the  elopement  he  would 
have  been  asked  to  join  the  party.  "  I  suppose  people 
have  been  pleased  to  talk  a  good  deal  about  me  of  late," 
he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  fear  so.     However,  I  hope  it  will  pass  over." 

"'  It  shews  no  sign  of  passing  over  as  yet,  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  has  become  a  little  stale  as  a  topic ;  but  there 
is  undeniably  a  good  deal  of  feeling  about  it  still.  If 
you  will  excuse  my  saying  so,  I  think  that  perhaps  you 
would  do  well  to  keep  out  of  the  way  a  little  longer." 

"  Presuming,  of  course,  that  popular  feeling  is  a  mat- 
ter about  which  I  am  likely  to  concern  myself." 

"  That  is  a  question  for  you  to  decide.  Excuse  the 
hint." 

"  The  question  is  whether  it  is  not  better  to  be  on  the 
spot,  so  as  to  strangle  calumny  at  its  source,  than  to  hide 
myself  abroad  whilst  a  host  of  malicious  tongues  are 
busy  with  me." 

"As  to  that,  Douglas,  I  assure  you  you  have  been  very 
fairly  treated.  The  chief  blame,  as  usual,  has  fallen  on 
the  weaker  sex.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  moderation 

398 


The   Irrational   Knot 

of  those  from  whom  the  loudest  complaints  might  have 
been  expected.  Reginald  Lind  has  hardly  ever  men- 
tioned the  subject.  Even  to  me,  he  only  shook  his  head 
and  said  that  it  was  an  old  attachment.  As  to  Conolly, 
we  have  actually  reproached  him  for  making  excuses 
for  you." 

"  Aye.  A  very  astute  method  of  bringing  me  into 
contempt.  Allow  me  to  enlighten  you  a  little,  Jasper. 
Lind,  whose  daughter  I  have  discovered  to  be  one  of 
the  worst  of  women,  has  just  offered  me  ten  thousand 
pounds  to  marry  her.  That  speaks  for  itself.  Conolly, 
who  drove  her  into  my  arms  by  playing  the  tyrant  whilst 
I  played  the  lover,  is  only  too  glad  to  get  rid  of  her. 
At  the  same  time,  he  is  afraid  to  fight  me,  and  ashamed 
to  say  so.  Therefore,  he  impudently  pretends  to  pity 
me  for  being  his  gull  in  the  matter.  But  I  will  stop 
that." 

"  Conolly  is  a  particular  friend  of  mine,  Douglas.  Let 
us  drop  the  subject,  if  you  dont  mind." 

"  If  he  is  your  friend,  of  course  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say.  I  think  I  will  turn  in  here  and  dine.  Good- 
evening." 

They  parted  without  any  salutation;  and  Douglas 
entered  the  restaurant  and  dined  alone.  He  came  out 
an  hour  later  in  improved  spirits,  and  began  to  con- 
sider whether  he  would  go  to  the  theatre  or  venture 
into  his  club.  He  was  close  to  a  lamp  at  a  corner  of 
Leicester  Square  when  he  stopped  to  debate  the  point 
with  himself;  and  in  his  preoccupation  he  did  not  notice 
a  four-wheeled  cab  going  slowly  past  him,  carrying  a 
lady  in  an  old  white  opera  cloak.  This  was  Mrs.  Leith 
Fairfax,  who,  recognizing  him,  called  to  the  cabman  to 
drive  a  little  past  the  lamp  and  stop. 

399 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  Good  heavens !  "  she  said  in  a  half-whisper:  "  you 
here !  What  madness  possessed  you  to  come  back  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  further  occasion  to  stay  away." 

"  How  coolly  you  say  so !  You  have  iron  nerves,  all 
you  Douglases.  I  have  heard  all,  and  I  know  what  you 
have  suffered.  How  soon  will  you  leave  London?" 

"  I  have  no  intention  of  leaving  it  at  present." 

"  But  you  cannot  stay  here." 

"  Pray  why  not  ?  Is  not  London  large  enough  for 
any  man  who  does  not  live  by  the  breath  of  the  world  ?  " 

"  Out  of  the  question,  Mr.  Douglas.  Absolutely  out 
of  the  question.  You  must  go  away  for  a  year  at  the 
very  least.  You  must  yield  something  to  propriety." 

"  I  shall  yield  nothing.  I  can  do  without  any  section 
of  society  that  may  feel  called  upon  to  do  without  me." 

"  Oh,  you  must  subdue  that  imperious  nature  of  yours 
for  your  mother's  sake  if  not  for  your  own.  Besides, 
you  have  been  very  wicked  and  reckless  and  daring,  just 
like  a  Douglas.  You  ought  to  do  penance  with  a  good 
grace.  I  may  conclude,  since  you  are  here,  that  Elinor 
McQuinch's  story  is  true  as  far  as  the  facts  go." 

"  I  have  not  heard  her  story." 

"  It  is  only  that  you  have  parted  from — you  know." 

"  That  is  true.  Can  I  gratify  your  curiosity  in  any 
other  particular  ?  " 

"  Strive  not  to  let  yourself  be  soured,  Mr.  Douglas. 
I  shudder  when  I  think  of  what  you  have  undergone 
at  the  hands  of  one  woman.  There!  I  will  not  allude  to 
it  again." 

"You  will  do  wisely,  Mrs.  Leith  Fairfax.  What  I 
have  suffered,  I  have  suffered.  I  desire  no  pity,  and  will 
endure  none." 

"  That  is  so  like  yourself.    I  must  hurry  on  to  Covent 

400 


The   Irrational   Knot 

Garden,  or  I  shall  be  late.  Will  you  come  and 
see  me  quietly  some  day  before  you  go?  I  am  never  at 
home  to  any  one  on  Tuesdays ;  but  if  you  come  at  about 
five,  Caroline  will  let  you  in.  It  will  be  dark:  nobody 
will  see  you.  We  can  have  a  chat  then." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Douglas,  coldly,  stepping  back, 
and  raising  his  hat,  "  I  shall  not  intrude  on  you.  Good- 
evening." 

She  waved  her  hand  at  him;  and  the  cab  departed.  He 
walked  quickly  back  to  Charles  Street,  and  called  his 
servant. 

"  I  suppose  no  one  has  called  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  Mrs.  Douglas  came  very  shortly  after  you 
went  out.  She  wishes  you  to  go  to  the  Square  this 
evening,  sir." 

"  This  evening  ?     I  am  afraid —     Buckstone." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Is  she  looking  well  ?  " 

"  A  little  tired,  sir.     But  quite  well,  I  have  no  doubt." 

"  How  much  of  the  luggage  have  you  unpacked  ?  " 

"  Only  your  portmanteau,  sir.     I  thought " 

"  So  much  the  better.  Pack  it  again.  I  am  going  to 
Brussels  to-night.  Find  out  about  the  trains.  I  shall 
want  you  to  take  a  hansom  and  take  a  note  to  Chester 
Square;  but  come  back  at  once  without  waiting  to  be 
spoken  to." 

"  Very  good,  sir." 

Douglas  then  sat  down  and  wrote  the  note. 

"  My  dear  Mother : 

"  I  am  sorry  I  was  out  when  you  called.  I  did 
not  expect  you,  as  I  am  only  passing  through  London  on 
my  way  to  Brussels.  I  am  anxious  to  get  clear  of  this 
vile  city,  and  so  shall  start  to-night.  Buckstone  tells  me 

401 


The    Irrational    Knot 

you  are  looking  well;  and  this  assurance  must  content 
me  for  the  present,  as  I  find  it  impossible  to  go  to  you. 
You  were  quite  right  in  warning  me  against  what  has 
happened;  but  it  is  all  past  and  broken  off  now,  and  I 
am  still  as  ever, 

"Your  affectionate  son, 

"  SHOLTO  DOUGLAS." 


402 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ONE  day  Eliza,  out  of  patience,  came  to  Mrs. 
Myers,  and  said : 
"A'  thin,  maam,  will  you  come  up  and  spake 
to  Miss  Conolly.    She's  rasin  ructions  above  stairs." 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear !  "  said  Mrs.  Myers.  "  Cant  you 
keep  her  quiet  ?  " 

"  Arra,  how  can  I  kape  her  quiet,  an  she  cryin  an 
roarin,  dyin  an  desarted?  " 

"Ask  Mrs.  Forster  to  go  in  and  coax  her  to  stop." 

"  Mrs.  Forsther's  at  dhuddher  ind  o  the  town.  Whisht ! 
There  she  is,  callin  me.  Youll  have  to  gup  to  her, 
maam.  Faith  I  wont  go  next  or  near  her." 

"  There's  no  use  in  my  going  up,  Eliza.  What  can 
I  do?" 

Eliza  had  nothing  to  suggest.  "  I'm  sure,  maam,"  she 
pleaded,  "  if  she  wont  mind  you,  she  wont  mind  me — bad 
manners  to  her !  " 

Mrs.  Myers  hesitated.    The  lodger  became  noisier. 

"  I  spose  Ive  got  to  go,"  said  Mrs.  Myers,  plaintively. 
She  went  upstairs  and  found  Susanna  lying  on  the 
sofa,  groaning,  with  a  dressing-gown  and  a  pair  of  thick 
boots  on. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Miss  Susan  ?  Youre 
goin  on  fit  to  raise  the  street." 

"  For  God's  sake  go  and  get  something  for  me.  Make 
the  doctor  do  something.  I'm  famishing.  I  must  be 
poisoned." 

403 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"Lord  forbid!" 

"  Look  at  me.  I  cant  eat  anything.  Oh !  I  cant 
even  drink.  I  tell  you  I  am  dying  of  thirst." 

"  Well,  Miss  Susan-  thers  plenty  for  you  to  eat  and 
drink." 

"  What  is  the  good  of  that,  when  I  can  neither  eat 
nor  drink?  Nothing  will  stay  inside  me.  If  I  could 
only  swallow  brandy,  I  shouldnt  care.  I  thought  I  could 
die  drunk.  Oh!  Send  Eliza  out  for  some  laudanum. 
I  cant  stand  this :  I'll  kill  myself." 

"  Be  quiet,  Miss  Susan :  youll  be  better  presently. 
Whats  the  use  of  talking  about  the  doctor?  He  says 
youll  not  be  able  to  drink  for  days,  and  that  you  will 
get  your  health  back  in  consequence.  You  are  doing 
yourself  no  good  by  screeching  like  that,  and  you  are 
ruining  me  and  my  house." 

"  Your  house  is  all  you  care  about.  Curse  you!  I  hope 
you  may  die  deserted  yourself.  Dont  go  away.  Dear 
Aunt  Sally,  you  wont  leave  me  here  alone,  will  you?  If 
you  do,  I'll  scream  like  a  hundred  devils." 

"  I  dont  know  what  to  do  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Myers, 
crying.  "  Youll  drive  me  as  mad  as  yourself.  Why 
did  I  ever  let  you  into  this  house  ?  " 

"  Oh,  bother !  Are  you  beginning  to  howl  now  ? 
Have  you  any  sardines,  or  anything  spicy?  I  think  I 
could  eat  some  salted  duck.  No,  I  couldnt,  though.  Go 
for  the  doctor.  There  must  be  something  that  will  do 
me  good.  What  use  is  he  if  he  cant  set  me  right?  All 
I  want  is  something  that  will  make  me  able  to  drink  a 
tumbler  of  brandy." 

"  The  Lord  help  you !  Praise  goodness !  here's  Mrs. 
Forster  coming  up.  Whatll  she  think  of  you  if  you 

404 


The    Irrational    Knot 

keep  moaning  like  that?  Mrs.  Forster:  will  you  step  in 
here  and  try  to  quiet  her  a  bit?  She's  clean  mad." 

"  Come  here,"  cried  Susanna,  as  Marian  entered. 
"  Come  and  sit  beside  me.  You  may  get  out,  you  old 
cat :  I  dont  want  you  any  longer." 

"  Hush,  pray,"  said  Marian,  putting  her  bonnet  aside 
and  sitting  down  by  the  sofa.  "What  is  the  matter?" 

"  The  same  as  last  night,  only  a  great  deal  worse," 
said  Susanna,  shutting  her  eyes  and  turning  her  head 
aside.  "  It's  all  up  with  me  this  time,  Mrs.  Ned.  I'm 
dying,  not  of  drink,  but  of  the  want  of  it.  Is  that  fiend 
of  a  woman  gone?" 

"  Yes.  You  ought  not  to  wound  her  as  you  did  just 
now.  She  has  been  very  kind  to  you." 

"  I  dont  care.  Oh,  dear  me,  I  wonder  how  long  this 
is  going  to  last  ?  " 

"Shall  I  go  for  the  doctor?" 

"  No:  what  can  he  do  ?  Stay  with  me.  I  wish  I 
could  sleep  or  eat." 

"  You  will  be  better  soon.  The  doctor  says  that  Nature 
is  making  an  effort  to  rescue  you  from  your  habit  by 
making  it  impossible  for  you  to  drink.  Try  and  be  pa- 
tient. Will  you  not  take  off  those  heavy  boots  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cant  feel  my  feet  without  them.  I  shall  never 
be  better,"  said  Susanna,  writhing  impatiently.  "  I'm 
done  for.  How  old  are  you?  You  neednt  mind  telling 
me.  I  shall  soon  be  beyond  repeating  it." 

"  I  was  twenty-five  in  June  last." 

"  I  am  only  twenty-nine.  I  started  at  eighteen,  and 
got  to  the  top  of  the  tree  in  seven  years.  I  came  down 
quicker  than  I  went  up.  I  might  have  gone  on  easily  for 
fifteen  years  more,  only  for  drinking  champagne.  I  wish 
I  had  my  life  to  live  over  again:  you  wouldnt  catch  me 

405 


The    Irrational    Knot 

playing  burlesque.  If  I  had  got  the  chance,  I  know  H 
could  have  played  tragedy  or  real  Italian  opera.  I  had 
to  work  hard  at  first;  and  they  wont  fill  my  place  very 
readily :  thats  one  comfort.  My  cleverness  was  my  ruin. 
Ned  was  not  half  so  quick.  It  used  to  take  him  montrc 
to  learn  things  that  I  picked  up  offhand,  and  yet  you 
see  how  much  better  he  has  done  than  I." 

"  Do  not  disturb  yourself  with  vain  regrets.  Think  cif 
something  else.  Shall  we  talk  about  Marmaduke  ?  " 

"  No,  I  dont  particularly  care  to.  Somehow,  at  my 
pass,  one  thinks  most  about  one's  self,  and  about  things 
that  happened  long  ago.  People  that  I  came  to  know 
later  on,  like  Bob,  seem  to  be  slipping  away  from  me. 
There  was  a  baritone  in  my  father's  company,  a  tremen- 
dous man,  with  shining  black  eyes,  and  a  voice  like  a 
great  bell — quite  pretty  at  the  top,  though:  he  must  have 
been  sixty  at  least;  and  he  was  very  fat;  but  he  was  the 
most  dignified  man  I  ever  saw.  You  should  have  heard 
him  do  the  Duke  in  Lucrezia  Borgia,  or  sing  Pro 
Peccatis  from  Rossini's  Stabat  Mater!  I  was  ten 
years  old  when  he  was  with  us,  and  my  grand  ambitien 
was  to  sing  with  him  when  I  grew  up.  He  would  shake 
his  head  if  he  saw  Susanetta  now.  I  would  rather  hear 
him  sing  three  bars  than  have  ten  visits  from  Bob.  Oft, 
dear!  I  thought  this  cursed  pain  was  getting  numbed, 
but  it  is  worse  than  ever." 

"  Try  to  keep  from  thinking  of  it.     I  have  often  won- 
dered that  you  never  speak  of  your  child.     I  have  heaid 
from  my  friend  in  London  that  it  is  very  well  and  happy ." 
"  Oh,  you  mean  Lucy.     She  was  a  lively  little  imp ." 
"  Would  you  not  like  to  see  her  again  ?  " 
"  No,  thank  you.     She  is  well  taken  care  of,  I  sup- 
pose.    I  am  glad  she  is  out  of  my  hands.     She  was  a 

406 


The    Irrational    Knot 

nuisance  to  me,  and  I  am  not  a  very  edifying  example 
for  her.  What  on  earth  should  I  want  to  see  her  for  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  a  mother." 

Susanna  laughed.  "  Never  say  die,  Mrs.  Ned.  You 
dont  know  what  may  happen  to  you  yet.  There  now ! 
I  know,  without  opening  my  eyes,  that  you  are  shocked, 
bless  your  delicacy!  How  do  you  think  I  should  have 
got  through  life  if  I'd  been  thin-skinned?  What  good 
does  it  do  you?  You  are  pining  away  in  this  hole  of  a 
lodging.  You  squirm  when  Mrs.  Myers  tries  to  be  friend- 
ly with  you;  and  I  sometimes  laugh  at  your  expression 
when  Eliza  treats  you  to  a  little  blarney  about  your  looks. 
Now  /  would  just  as  soon  gossip  and  swear  at  her  as 
go  to  tea  with  the  Queen." 

"  I  am  not  shocked  at  all.  You  see  as  badly  as  other 
people  when  your  eyes  are  shut." 

"  They  will  soon  shut  up  forever.  I  half  wish  they 
would  do  it  at  once.  I  wonder  whether  I  will  get  any 
ease  before  there  is  an  end  of  me." 

"  Perhaps  the  end  of  you  on  earth  will  be  a  good  be- 
ginning for  you  somewhere  else,  Susanna." 

"  Thank  you.  Now  the  conversation  has  taken  a  nice, 
cheerful  turn,  hasnt  it?  Well,  I  cant  be  much  worse  off 
than  I  am  at  present.  Anyhow,  I  must  take  my  chance." 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  a  clergyman  ?  I  dont  want 
to  alarm  you :  I  am  sure  you  will  get  better :  the  doctor 
told  me  so;  but  I  will  go  for  one  if  you  like." 

"  No :  I  dont  want  to  be  bothered — at  least  not  yet. 
Besides,  I  hate  clergymen,  all  except  your  brother,  the 
doctor,  who  fell  in  love  with  me." 

"  Very  well.  I  only  suggested  it  in  case  you  should 
feel  uneasy." 

"  I  dont  feel  quite  easy ;  but  I  dont  care  sufficiently 
407 


The  Irrational   Knot 

about  it  to  make  a  fuss.  It  will  be  time  enough  when  I 
am  actually  at  death's  door.  All  I  know  is  that  if  there 
is  a  place  of  punishment  in  the  next  world,  it  is  very 
unfair,  considering  what  we  suffer  in  this.  I  didnt  make 
myself  or  my  circumstances.  I  think  I  will  try  to  sleep. 
I  am  half  dead  as  it  is  with  pain  and  weariness.  Dont 
go  until  I  am  asleep." 

"  I  will  not.  Let  me  get  you  another  pillow." 
"  No,"  said  Susanna,  drowsily:  "  dont  touch  me." 
Marian  sat  listening  to  her  moaning  respiration  for 
nearly  half  an  hour.  Then,  having  some  letters  to  write, 
she  went  to  her  own  room  to  fetch  her  desk.  Whilst  she 
was  looking  for  her  pen,  which  was  mislaid,  she  heard 
Susanna  stirring.  The  floor  creaked,  and  there  was  a 
clink  as  of  a  bottle.  A  moment  later,  Marian,  listening 
with  awakened  suspicion,  was  startled  by  the  sound  of 
a  heavy  fall  mingled  with  a  crash  of  breaking  glass. 
She  ran  back  into  the  next  room  just  in  time  to  see 
Susanna,  on  her  hands  and  knees  near  the  stove,  lift 
her  white  face  for  a  moment,  displaying  a  bleeding 
wound  on  her  temple,  and  then  stumble  forward  and  fall 
prone  on  the  carpet.  Marian  saw  this;  saw  the  walls 
of  the  room  revolve  before  her;  and  fainted  upon  the 
sofa,  which  she  had  reached  without  knowing  how. 

When  she  recovered  the  doctor  was  standing  by  her; 
and  Eliza  was  picking  up  fragments  of  the  broken  bottle. 
The  smell  of  the  spilled  brandy  reminded  her  of  what 
had  happened. 

"  Where  is  Miss  Conolly  ?  "  she  said,  trying  to  collect 
her  wits.  "  I  am  afraid  I  fainted  at  the  very  moment 
when  I  was  most  wanted." 

"All  right,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Keep  quiet ;  youll  be 
well  presently.  Dont  be  in  a  hurry  to  talk." 

408 


The   Irrational    Knot 

Marian  obeyed;  and  the  doctor,  whose  manner  was 
kind,  though  different  to  that  of  the  London  physicians 
to  whom  she  was  accustomed,  presently  left  the  room 
and  went  upstairs.  Eliza  was  howling  like  an  animal. 
The  sound  irritated  Marian  even  at  that  pass:  she  de- 
spised the  whole  Irish  race  on  its  account.  She  could 
hardly  keep  her  temper  as  she  said : 

"  Is  Miss  Conolly  seriously  hurt  ?  " 

"  Oa,  blessed  hour !  she's  kilt.  Her  head's  dhreepin 
wid  blood." 

Marian  shuddered  and  felt  faint  again. 

"  Lord  Almighty  save  use,  I  doa  knoa  how  she  done  it 
at  all,  at  all.  She  must  ha  fell  agin  the  stoave.  It's  the 
dhrink,  dhrink,  dhrink,  that  brought  her  to  it.  It's  little 
I  knew  what  that  wairy  bottle  o  brandy  would  do  to  her, 
or  sorra  bit  o  me  would  ha  got  it." 

"  You  did  very  wrong  in  getting  it,  Eliza." 

"  What  could  I  do,  miss,  when  she  axed  me  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  use  in  crying  over  it  now.  It  would 
have  been  kinder  to  have  kept  it  from  her." 

"  Sure  I  know.  Many's  the  time  I  tould  her  so.  But 
she  could  talk  the  birds  off  the  bushes,  and  it  wint  to  me 
heart  to  refuse  her.  God  send  her  well  out  of  her 
throuble!" 

Here  the  doctor  returned.  "  How  are  you  now  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  I  think  I  am  better.  Pray  dont  think  of  me.  How 
is  she?" 

"It's  all  over.  Hallo!  Come,  Miss  Biddy!  you  go 
and  cry  in  the  kitchen,"  he  added,  pushing  Eliza,  who 
had  set  up  an  intolerable  lamentation,  out  of  the  room. 

"  How  awful !  "  said  Marian,  stunned.  "Are  you  quite 
sure?  She  seemed  better  this  morning." 

409 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  Quite  sure,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling  grimly  at  the 
question.  "  She  was  practically  dead  when  they  carried 
her  upstairs,  poor  girl.  It's  easier  to  kill  a  person  than 
you  think,  Mrs.  Forster,  although  she  tried  so  long  and 
so  hard  without  succeeding.  But  she'd  have  done  it. 
She'd  have  been  starved  into  health  only  to  drink  herself 
back  into  starvation,  and  the  end  would  have  been  a  very 
bad  one.  Better  as  it  is,  by  far !  " 

"  Doctor:  I  must  go  out  and  telegraph  the  news  to 
London.  I  know  one  of  her  relatives  there." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "  I  will  telegraph  if  you 
like,  but  you  must  stay  here.  Youre  not  yet  fit  to  go 
out." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  been  well  lately,"  said  Marian. 
"  I  want  to  consult  you  about  myself — not  now,  of  course, 
after  what  has  happened,  but  some  day  when  you  have 
leisure  to  call." 

"  You  can  put  off  consulting  me  just  as  long  as  you 
please;  but  this  accident  is  no  reason  why  you  shouldnt 
do  it  at  once.  If  there  is  anything  wrong,  the  sooner 
you  have  advice — you  neednt  have  it  from  me  if  you 
prefer  some  other  doctor — the  better." 

Upon  this  encouragement  Marian  described  to  him  her 
state  of  health.  He  seemed  a  little  amused,  asked  her 
a  few  questions,  and  finally  told  her  coolly  that  she 
might  expect  to  become  a  mother  next  fall.  She  was 
so  utterly  dismayed  that  he  began  to  look  stern  in  antici- 
pation of  an  appeal  to  him  to  avert  this;  an  appeal  which 
he  had  often  had  to  refuse  without  ever  having  succeeded 
in  persuading  a  woman  that  it  was  futile,  or  convincing 
her  that  it  was  immoral.  But  Marian  spared  him  this: 
she  was  overwhelmed  by  the  new  certainty  that  a  recon- 

410 


The    Irrational    Knot 

ciliation  with  her  husband  was  no  longer  possible.  Her 
despair  at  the  discovery  shewed  her  for  the  first  time 
how  homesick  she  really  was. 

When  the  doctor  left,  Mrs.  Myers  came.  She  exclaim- 
ed; wept;  and  gossiped  until  two  police  officers  arrived. 
Marian  related  to  them  what  she  had  seen  of  the  accident, 
and  became  indignant  at  the  apparent  incredulity  with 
which  they  questioned  her  and  examined  the  room.  After 
their  departure  Eliza  came  to  her,  and  invited  her  to  go 
up-stairs  and  see  the  body  of  Susanna.  She  refused  with 
a  shudder;  but  when  she  saw  that  the  girl  was  hurt  as 
well  as  astonished,  it  occurred  to  her  that  avoidance  of 
the  dead  might,  if  it  came  to  Conolly's  knowledge,  be 
taken  by  him  to  indicate  a  lack  of  kind  feeling  toward 
his  sister.  So  she  overcame  her  repugnance,  and  went 
with  Eliza.  The  window-shades  were  drawn  down,  and 
the  dressing-table  had  been  covered  with  a  white  cloth, 
on  which  stood  a  plaster  statuet  of  the  Virgin  and  Child, 
with  two  lighted  candles  before  it.  To  please  Eliza,  who 
had  evidently  made  these  arrangements,  Marian  whis- 
pered a  few  words  of  approval,  and  turned  curiously  to 
the  bed.  The  sight  made  her  uncomfortable.  The  body 
was  decently  laid  out,  its  wounded  forehead  covered  with 
a  bandage,  and  Eliza's  rosary  and  crucifix  on  its  breast; 
but  it  did  not,  as  Marian  had  hoped,  suggest  peace  or 
sleep.  It  was  not  Susanna,  but  a  vacant  thing  that  had 
always  underlain  her,  and  which,  apart  from  her,  was 
ghastly. 

"  She  died  a  good  Catholic  anyhow :  the  light  o 
Heaven  to  her  sowl !  "  said  Eliza,  whimpering,  but  speak- 
ing as  though  she  expected  and  defied  Marian  to  contra- 
dict her. 

411 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"Amen,"  said  Marian. 

"  It's  sure  and  sartin.  There  never  was  a  Conolly  a 
Prodestan  yet." 

Marian  left  the  room,  resolving  to  avoid  such  sights 
in  future.  Mrs.  Myers  was  below,  anxious  to  resume 
the  conversation  which  the  visit  of  the  police  had  inter- 
rupted. Marian  could  not  bear  this.  To  escape,  she 
left  the  house,  and  went  to  her  only  friend  in  New  York, 
Mrs.  Crawford,  whose  frequent  visits  she  had  never  be- 
fore ventured  to  return.  To  her  she  narrated  the  events 
of  the  day. 

"  This  business  of  the  poor  girl  killing  herself  is  real 
shocking,"  said  Mrs.  Crawford.  "  Perhaps  your  hus- 
band will  come  over  here  now,  and  give  you  a  chance  of 
making  up  with  him." 

"  If  he  does,  I  must  leave  New  York,  Mrs.  Crawford." 

"  What  are  you  frightened  of  ?  If  he  is  as  good  a  man 
as  you  say,  you  ought  to  be  glad  to  see  him.  I'm  sure  he 
would  have  you  back.  Depend  on  it,  he  has  been  long- 
ing for  you  all  this  time ;  and  when  he  sees  you  again  as 
pretty  as  ever,  he  will  open  his  arms  to  you.  He  wont 
like  you  any  the  worse  for  being  a  little  bashful  with  him 
after  such  an  escapade." 

"  I  would  not  meet  him  for  any  earthly  consideration. 
After  what  the  doctor  told  me  to-day,  I  should  throw 
myself  out  of  the  window,  I  think,  if  I  heard  him  com- 
ing upstairs.  I  should  like  to  see  him,  if  I  were  placed 
where  he  could  not  see  me ;  but  face  him  I  could  not." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  think  it's  right  silly  of  you,  though 
the  little  stranger — it  will  be  a  regular  stranger — is  a 
difficulty:  there's  no  two  ways  about  that." 

"  Besides,  I  have  been  thinking  over  things  alone  in 
my  room;  and  I  see  that  it  is  better  for  him  to  be  free. 

412 


The   Irrational   Knot 

I  know  he  was  disappointed  in  me.  He  is  not  the  sort 
of  man  to  be  tied  down  to  such  an  ignorant  woman  as  I." 

"  What  does  he  expect  from  a  woman  ?  If  youre  not 
good  enough  for  him,  he  must  be  very  hard  to  please." 

Marian  shook  her  head.  "  He  is  capable  of  pitying 
and  being  considerate  with  me,"  she  said:  "  I  know  that. 
But  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  a  good  thing  to  be  pitied  and 
forborne  with.  There  is  something  humiliating  in  it.  I 
suppose  I  am  proud,  as  you  often  tell  me;  but  I  should 
like  to  be  amongst  women  what  he  is  amongst  men,  sup- 
ported by  my  own  strength.  Even  within  the  last  three 
weeks  I  have  felt  myself  becoming  more  independent  in 
my  isolation.  I  was  afraid  to  go  about  the  streets  by 
myself  at  first.  Now  I  am  getting  quite  brave.  That 
unfortunate  woman  did  me  good.  Taking  care  of  her, 
and  being  relied  on  so  much  by  her,  has  made  me  rely 
on  myself  more.  Thanks  to  you,  I  have  not  much  lone- 
liness to  complain  of.  And  yet  I  have  been  utterly  cast 
down  sometimes.  I  cannot  tell  what  is  best.  Sometimes 
I  think  that  independence  is  worth  all  the  solitary  strug- 
gling it  costs.  Then  again  I  remember  how  free  from 
real  care  I  was  at  home,  and  yearn  to  be  back  there.  It 
is  so  hard  to  know  what  one  ought  to  do." 

"  You  have  been  more  lively  since  you  got  such  a 
pleasant  answer  to  your  telegram.  I  wish  the  General 
would  offer  to  let  me  keep  my  own  money  and  as  much 
more  as  I  wanted.  Not  that  he  is  close-fisted,  poor  man! 
That  reminds  me  to  tell  you  that  you  must  stay  the  eve- 
ning. He  wants  to  see  you  as  bad  as  can  be — never  stops 
asking  me  to  bring  you  up  some  time  when  he's  at  home. 
You  mustnt  excuse  yourself:  the  General  will  see  you  safe 
back  to  your  place." 

"  But  if  visitors  come,  Mrs.  Crawford  ?  " 

413 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Nobody  will  come.  If  they  do,  they  will  be  glad  to 
see  you.  What  do  they  know  about  you  ?  You  cant  live 
like  a  hermit  all  your  life." 

Marian,  sooner  than  go  back  to  Mrs.  Myers's,  stayed; 
and  the  evening  passed  pleasantly  enough,  although  three 
visitors  came:  a  gentleman,  with  his  wife  and  brother. 
The  lady,  besides  eating,  and  replying  to  the  remarks 
with  which  Mrs.  Crawford  occasionally  endeavored  to 
entertain  her,  did  nothing  but  admire  Marian's  dress  and 
listen  to  her  conversation.  Her  husband  was  polite ;  but 
Marian,  comparing  him  with  the  English  gentlemen  of 
her  acquaintance,  thought  him  rather  oppressively  re- 
spectful, and  too  much  given  to  conversing  in  little 
speeches.  He  had  been  in  London;  and  he  described, 
in  a  correct  narrative  style,  his  impressions  of  St.  Paul's, 
the  Tower,  and  Westminster  Palace.  His  brother  fell  in 
love  with  Mrs.  Forster  at  first  sight,  and  sat  silent  until 
she  remarked  to  him  how  strangely  the  hotel  omnibuses 
resembled  old  English  stage  coaches,  when  he  became 
recklessly  talkative  and  soon  convinced  her  that  Ameri- 
can society  produced  quite  as  choice  a  compound  of  off- 
handedness  and  folly  as  London  could.  But  all  this  was 
amusing  after  her  long  seclusion ;  and  once  or  twice,  when 
the  thought  of  dead  Susanna  came  back  to  her,  she  was 
ashamed  to  be  so  gay. 

No  one  was  stirring  at  Mrs.  Myers's  when  she  re- 
turned. They  had  left  her  lamp  in  the  entry;  and  she 
took  it  upstairs  with  her,  going  softly  lest  she  should 
disturb  the  household.  Susanna's  usual  call  and  petition 
for  a  few  minutes  talk  was  no  longer  to  be  feared,  for 
Susanna  was  now  only  a  memory.  Marian  tried  not  to 
think  of  the  body  in  the  room  above.  Though  she  was 
free  from  the  dread  which  was  just  then  making  Eliza 

414 


The  Irrational   Knot 

tremble,  cry,  and  cross  herself  to  sleep,  she  disliked  the 
body  all  the  more  as  she  distinguished  it  from  the  no- 
longer  existent  woman:  a  feat  quite  beyond  the  Irish 
peasant  girl.  She  sat  down  and  began  to  think.  The 
Crawfords  and  their  friends  had  been  very  nice  to  her: 
no  doubt  the  lady  would  not  have  been  civil  had  she 
known  all ;  but,  then,  the  lady  was  a  silly  person.  They 
were  not  exactly  what  Marian  considered  the  best  sort 
of  people;  but  New  York  was  not  London.  She  would 
not  stay  at  Mrs.  Myers's:  her  income  would  enable  her 
to  lodge  more  luxuriously.  If  she  could  afford  to  fur- 
nish some  rooms  for  herself,  she  would  get  some  curtains 
she  had  seen  one  day  lately  when  shopping  with  Mrs. 

Crawford.     They  would  go  well  with 

A  noise  in  the  room  overhead:  Susanna's  death  cham- 
ber. Marian  gave  a  great  start,  and  understood  what 
Eliza  meant  by  having  "  the  life  put  across  in  her."  She 
listened,  painfully  conscious  of  the  beats  of  her  heart. 
The  noise  came  again :  a  footstep,  or  a  chair  pushed  back, 
or — she  was  not  certain  what.  Could  Mrs.  Myers  be 
watching  at  the  bedside?  It  was  not  unlikely.  Could 
Susanna  be  recovering — finding  herself  laid  out  for  dead, 
and  making  a  struggle  for  life  up  there  alone?  That 
would  be  inconvenient,  undesirable:  even  Marian  for- 
got just  then  to  consider  that  obvious  view  wrong  and 
unfeeling ;  but,  anyhow,  she  must  go  and  see,  and,  if  nec- 
essary, help.  She  wished  there  were  some  one  to  keep 
her  company;  but  was  ashamed  to  call  Eliza;  and  she 
felt  that  she  would  be  as  well  by  herself  as  with  Mrs. 
Myers.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  take  a  candle 
and  go  alone.  No  repetition  of  the  noise  occurred  to 
daunt  her  afresh;  and  she  reached  the  landing  above 
almost  reassured,  and  thinking  how  odd  it  was  that  the 

415 


The  Irrational   Knot 

idea  of  finding  somebody — Susanna — there,  though  it  had 
come  as  a  fear,  was  fading  out  as  a  disappointed  hope. 

Finding  herself  loth  to  open  the  door,  she  at  last  set 
her  teeth  and  did  it  swiftly,  as  if  to  surprise  someone 
within.  She  did  surprise  some  one:  her  husband,  sitting 
by  his  sister's  body.  He  started  violently  on  seeing  her, 
and  rose;  whilst  she,  mechanically  shutting  the  door  with- 
out turning,  leaned  back  against  it  with  her  hand  behind 
her,  and  looked  at  him  open-mouthed. 

"  Marian,"  he  said,  in  a  quite  unexpectedly  apprehen- 
sive tone,  putting  up  his  hand  deprecatingly:  "  remember, 
here  " — indicating  the  figure  on  the  bed — "  is  an  end  of 
hypocrisy!  No  unrealities  now:  I  cannot  bear  them. 
Let  us  have  no  trash  of  magnanimous  injured  husband, 
erring  but  repentant  wife.  We  are  man  and  woman, 
nothing  less  and  nothing  more.  After  our  marriage  you 
declined  intercourse  on  those  terms;  and  I  accepted  your 
conventions  to  please  you.  Now  I  refuse  all  conven- 
tions: you  have  broken  them  yourself.  If  you  will  not 
have  the  truth  between  us,  avoid  me  until  I  have  sub- 
sided into  the  old  groove  again.  There!"  he  added, 
wincing,  "  dont  blush.  What  have  you  to  blush  for  ?  It 
was  the  only  honest  thing  you  ever  did." 

"  I  dont  understand." 

"  No,"  he  said  gently,  but  with  a  gesture  of  despair; 
"  how  could  you  ?  You  never  did,  and  you  never  will." 

"  If  you  mean  to  accuse  me  of  having  deceived  you," 
said  Marian,  greatly  relieved  and  encouraged  by  a  sense 
of  being  now  the  injured  party,  "  you  are  most  unjust. 
I  dont  excuse  myself  for  behaving  wickedly,  but  I  never 
deceived  you  or  told  you  a  falsehood.  Never.  When  he 
first  spoke  wrongly  to  me,  I  told  you  at  once;  and  you 
did  not  care." 

416 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"  Not  a  straw.  It  was  nothing  to  me  that  he  loved 
you:  the  point  was,  did  you  love  him?  If  not,  then  all 
was  well :  if  so,  our  marriage  was  already  at  an  end.  But 
you  mistake  my  drift.  Falsehood  is  something  more 
than  fibbing.  You  never  told  fibs — except  the  two  or 
three  dozen  a  week  that  mere  politeness  required  and 
which  you  never  thought  of  counting;  but  you  never 
told  me  the  truth,  Marian,  because  you  never  told  your- 
self the  truth.  You  told  me  what  you  told  yourself,  I 
grant  you;  and  so  you  were  not  conscious  of  deceit.  I 
dont  reproach  you.  Surely  you  can  bear  to  be  told 
what  every  honest  man  tells  himself  almost  daily." 

"  I  suppose  I  have  deserved  it,"  said  Marian;  "  but 
unkind  words  from  you  are  a  new  experience.  You  are 
very  unlike  yourself  to-night." 

He  repressed,  with  visible  effort,  an  explosion  of  im- 
patience. "  On  the  contrary,  I  am  like  myself — I  actu- 
ally am  myself  to-night,  I  hope."  Then  the  explosion 
came.  "  Is  it  utterly  impossible  for  you  to  say  something 
real  to  me?  Only  learn  to  do  that,  and  you  may  have 
ten  love  romances  every  year  with  other  men,  if  you  like. 
Be  anything  rather  than  a  ladylike  slave  and  liar.  There ! 
as  usual,  the  truth  makes  you  shrink  from  me.  As  I  said 
before,  I  refuse  further  intercourse  on  such  terms.  They 
have  proved  unkind  in  the  long  run." 

"  You  spoke  plainly  enough  to  her,"  said  Marian, 
glancing  at  the  bed;  "  but  in  the  long  run  it  did  her  no 
good." 

"  She  would  have  laughed  me  to  scorn  if  I  had  minced 
matters,  for  she  never  deceived  herself.  Society,  by  the 
power  of  the  purse,  set  her  to  nautch-girl's  work,  and 
forbade  her  the  higher  work  that  was  equally  within  her 
power.  Being  enslaved  and  debauched  in  this  fashion, 

417. 


The    Irrational    Knot 

how  could  she  be  happy  except  when  she  was  not  sober? 
It  was  her  own  immediate  interest  to  drink;  it  was  her 
tradesman's  interest  that  she  should  drink;  it  was  her 
servants'  interest  that  she  should  be  pleased  with  them 
for  getting  drink  for  her.  She  was  clever,  good-natured, 
more  constant  to  her  home  and  her  man  than  you, 
a  living  fountain  of  innocent  pleasure  as  a  dancer,  singer, 
and  actress ;  and  here  she  lies,  after  mischievously  spend- 
ing her  talent  in  a  series  of  entertainments  too  dull  for 
hell  and  too  debased  for  any  better  place,  dead  of  a 
preventable  disease,  chiefly  because  most  of  the  people 
she  came  in  contact  with  had  a  direct  pecuniary  interest 
in  depraving  and  poisoning  her.  Aye,  look  at  her!  with 
the  cross  on  her  breast,  the  virgin  mother  in  plaster 
looking  on  from  where  she  kept  her  mirror  when  she 
was  alive,  and  the  people  outside  complacently  saying 
'  Serve  her  right ! '  " 

Marian  feared  for  a  moment  that  he  would  demolish 
Eliza's  altar  by  hurling  the  chair  through  it.  "  Dont, 
Ned,"  she  said,  timidly,  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Dont  what  ?  "  he  said,  taken  aback.  She  drew  her 
hand  away  and  retreated  a  step,  coloring  at  the  wifely 
liberty  she  had  permitted  herself  to  take.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon.  I  thought — I  thought  you  were  going  to  take 
the  cross  away.  No,"  she  added  quickly,  seeing  him 
about  to  speak,  and  anticipating  a  burst  of  scepticism:  "  it 
is  not  that;  but  the  servant  is  an  Irish  girl — a  Roman 
Catholic.  She  put  it  there;  and  she  meant  well,  and 
will  be  hurt  if  it  is  thrown  aside." 

"And  you  think  it  better  that  she  should  remain  in 
ignorance  of  what  educated  people  think  about  her  super- 
stition than  that  she  should  suffer  the  mortification  of 

418 


The   Irrational   Knot 

learning  that  her  opinions  are  not  those  of  all  the  world ! 
However,  I  had  no  such  intention.  Eliza's  idol  is  a  re- 
spectable one  as  idols  go." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Marian  said :  "  It  must 
have  been  a  great  shock  to  you  when  you  came  and 
found  what  had  happened.  I  am  very  sorry.  But  had 
we  not  better  go  down-stairs?  It  seems  so  unfeeling, 
somehow,  to  talk  without  minding  her.  I  suppose  you 
consider  that  foolish;  but  I  think  you  are  upset  by  it 
yourself." 

"  You  see  a  change  in  me,  then  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  quite  yourself,  I  think." 

"  I  tell  you  again  that  I  am  myself  at  last.  You  do  not 
seem  to  like  the  real  man  any  better  than  the  unreal:  I 
am  afraid  you  will  not  have  me  on  any  terms.  Well,  let 
us  go  downstairs,  since  you  prefer  it." 

"  Oh,  not  unless  you  wish  it  too,"  said  Marian,  a  little 
bewildered. 

He  took  her  candle  and  led  the  way  out  without  another 
word  or  a  look  at  the  bed.  Marian,  as  he  stood  aside  to 
let  her  go  downstairs  before  him,  was  suddenly  seized 
with  a  fantastic  fear  that  he  was  going  to  kill  her.  She 
did  not  condescend  to  hurry  or  look  back;  but  she  only 
felt  safe  when  they  were  in  her  room,  and  he  no  longer 
behind  her. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  said,  placing  the  candle  on  the  mantel- 
piece. She  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  he  stood  on  the 
hearthrug.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  about  the  future.  Are 
you  coming  back?  Will  you  give  the  life  at  Holland 
Park  another  trial  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,"  she  said,  bending  her  head  almost  on  her 
hands.  "  I  should  disgrace  you.  And  there  is  another 
reason." 

419 


The    Irrational    Knot 

"  It  is  not  in  your  power,  nor  in  that  of  all  London,  to 
disgrace  me  if  I  do  not  feel  disgraced.  It  is  useless  to 
say  that  you  cannot.  If  you  say  '  I  will  not,'  then  that 
will  settle  it.  What  is  the  other  reason  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  yet  born.     But  it  will  be." 

"  That  is  no  reason  to  me.  Do  you  think  I  shall  be 
a  worse  father  to  it  than  he  would  have  been  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed.  But  it  would  be  unfair  to  you."  He 
made  an  impatient  gesture.  "  I  dont  understand  you, 
Ned.  Would  you  not  rather  be  free  ?  " 

"  Freedom  is  a  fool's  dream.  I  am  free.  I  can  divorce 
you  if  I  please :  if  I  live  with  you  again  it  will  be  by  my 
own  choice.  You  are  free  too :  you  have  burnt  your  boats, 
and  are  rid  of  fashionable  society,  of  your  family,  your 
position,  your  principles,  and  all  the  rest  of  your  chains 
forever.  You  are  declassed  by  your  own  act;  and  if 
you  can  frankly  give  a  sigh  of  relief  and  respect  yourself 
for  breaking  loose  from  what  is  called  your  duty,  then 
you  are  the  very  woman  I  want  for  a  wife.  I  may  not 
be  the  very  man  you  want  for  a  husband;  but  at  all 
events  you  are  free  to  choose,  free  to  change  after  you 
choose  if  you  choose  me,  free  anyhow;  for  I  will  di- 
vorce you  if  you  refuse ;  and  then  you  will  be — indepen- 
dent— your  own  mistress — absolute  proprietor  of  your 
own  child — everything  that  married  women  and  girls 
envy.  You  have  a  foretaste  of  that  freedom  now.  What 
is  it  worth  ?  One  or  two  conditions  more  or  less  to  com- 
ply with,  that  is  all :  nature  and  society  still  have  you 
hard  and  fast :  the  main  rules  of  the  game  are  inviolable." 

"  I  think  it  is  a  good  thing  to  be  free,"  said  Marian, 
timidly. 

"  That  means  '  I  will  not.'  " 

"  Not '  will  not ' ;  but  I  think  I  had  better  not." 

420 


The   Irrational   Knot 

"A  characteristic  distinction,  Marian.  I  once  thought, 
like  you,  that  freedom  was  the  one  condition  to  be  gained 
at  all  cost  and  hazard.  My  favorite  psalm  was  that  non- 
sense of  John  Hay's: 

'  For  always  in  thine  eyes,  O  Liberty, 
Shines  that  high  light  whereby  the  world  is  saved ; 
And  though  thou  slay  us,  we  will  trust  in  thee.' 

And  she  does  slay  us.  Now  I  am  for  the  fullest  attain- 
able life.  That  involves  the  least  endurable  liberty.  You 
dont  see  that  yet.  Very  well:  you  have  liberty — liberty 
to  hurt  as  well  as  help  yourself ;  and  you  are  right  to  try 
whether  it  will  not  make  you  happier  than  wedlock  has 
done." 

"  It  was  not  your  fault ;  and  it  is  very  good  of  you 
to  offer  to  take  me  back,  I  know.  Will  my  refusing 
disappoint  you  at  all,  Ned  ?  " 

"  I  am  prepared  for  it.  You  may  refuse  or  accept :  I 
foresee  how  I  shall  adapt  myself  to  either  set  of  circum- 
stances." 

"  Yes,  I  forgot.  You  foresee  everything,"  said  Ma- 
rian, with  some  bitterness. 

"  No:  I  only  face  what  I  see.  That  is  why  you  do 
not  like  living  with  me.  Good-bye.  Do  not  look  troub- 
led :  we  shall  meet  again  to-morrow  and  often  afterward, 
I  hope ;  but  to-night  makes  an  end  of  the  irrational  knot." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Marian  rather  forlornly,  after  a 
pause,  proffering  her  hand. 

"  One  folly  more,"  he  said,  taking  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissing  her.  She  made  no  resistance.  "If  such  a  mo- 
ment could  be  eternal,  we  should  never  say  good-bye," 

421 


The  Irrational   Knot 

he  added.  "As  it  is,  we  are  wise  not  to  tempt  Fortune  by 
asking  her  for  such  another." 

"  You  are  too  wise,  Ned,"  she  said,  suffering  him  to 
replace  her  gently  in  the  chair. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  be  too  wise,  dearest,"  he  said,  and 
unhesitatingly  turned  and  left  her. 


422 


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